


Emerald-Eyed

by InsertPotterThemedUsernameHere



Series: Emerald-Eyed Trilogy [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Humor, Canon Het Relationship, Depression, Draco is not a Death Eater, F/M, Fred Lives, Gen, HP: EWE, Hermione Bashing, Het and Slash, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Infidelity, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, M/M, Pre-Slash, Science Bros, Slash, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trigger: Depression, Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertPotterThemedUsernameHere/pseuds/InsertPotterThemedUsernameHere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony apparently has a son named Harry, who is an angsty teenager. How will he learn to be a father and how will Harry learn to be a son?</p><p>Eventual Tony/Bruce; future Harry/Steve</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello AO3! Call me Insie. This is a crossposting of my story from fanfiction.net.
> 
> If you recognize it, I don't own it. I make no money, so don't sue me. Please and thank you.
> 
> The timeline is as such: after Battle of Hogwarts and The Avengers (2012), with the Harry Potter universe moved up 15 years. Harry was born in 1994.
> 
> This story will focus on Harry and Tony's father-son relationship, although as stated, this will be Slash in the future for Harry/Steve, so please no flames. Constructive criticism is welcome. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Tony was in his workshop going over the redesign for the formerly Stark Tower. To say the battle had taken its toll on the building would be an understatement; but Tony was the eternal optimist – taking lemons and making them into lemonade, or rather frozen lemonade with coconut rum, was his thing. He saw this as an opportunity to shape the new tower to meet the needs of the Avengers, create a home base that would be in his territory rather than S.H.I.E.L.D.'s. Begrudgingly, he would admit that the agency had its uses, but he hated the secrecy of the agency and their keeping information from him and his team. Tony was not a fan of secrets in general, the best example being his just coming out as Iron Man and not being the veiled superhero with the secret identity. No, that was definitely not his style. Having a base that he controlled and could monitor through JARVIS should give the Avengers the upper hand if Nick Fury and his buddies decide to pull a fast one. Again.

'She's a lady! Whoa! Whoa! She's a lady! Talkin' about the little lady – and the lady is mine.'(1)

Tony smiled as he answered his phone. Even Pepper liked his Tom Jones ringtone he set for her. In her eyes it could have been worse: he could have used Michael Bolton.

"Hey, Pep, I'm in the middle of the redesign–" Tony started.

"Tony you need to come to the office. Now!" Pepper said.

"That's the problem Pep, we don't have offices, so I am redesigning them –" Pepper cut him off again.

"This is not the time for jokes, Tony!" Pepper exclaimed. She took a breath to collect herself. "There is lawyer waiting outside my office claiming to be representing your son."

"Pep, how many paternity suits have you dealt with concerning me?" Tony laughed. "We do the blood test, and like always, it will be found that I am not the father. What is so different this time?"

"The difference this time is that the boy could be your twin, from your nose to your wild hair," Pepper said quickly. "Looking at his pictures, I swear I am looking at a teenage you with startling green eyes."

"Green eyes?" Tony frowned, thinking – no it couldn't be. It was almost seventeen years – wait, seventeen years – "Did you say teenage?"

"Yes the boy is seventeen," Pepper replied, and took a breath. "Does 'Emerald-Eyed Lily' mean anything to you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) "She's a Lady" by Tom Jones.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry sat in front of Griphook's desk dumbstruck. Finally, he had the voice to speak.

"What do you mean James Potter is not my father?" Harry demanded. He clenched his fists.

"Just as I said," Griphook drawled. "James Potter was not your biological father. He blood-adopted you upon your birth, but it was not his seed that led to your creation. However, this means nothing in the terms of your inheritance. As he blood-adopted you, in the eyes of Magick, you are his son and retain the talents and fortunes of the Potter line. Now, to go over the inventory of your vaults –"

"Who's my father then?" Harry asked, quickly.

Griphook was not amused about being interrupted.

"That, Mr. Potter, is none of my business or concern," Griphook snapped. "I am here to go over your parents' will, not take part in a soap opera!"

Harry cringed and took a breath. He was lucky the goblin was even speaking with him at all, after the trio had broken into the Lestrange vault.

"My apologies Master Griphook," Harry said. "It was just a... surprise. Please, continue. I appreciate your going over this all with me."

Griphook eyed the boy, nodded, and continued on with the business.

Harry half-listened as his mind continued to spin. If James Potter was not his father, who was? He thought his parents were happy – how could his mother do that with another man? Had James known? The man had adopted him, so he must have known, right? So many questions only the dead could answer.

Eventually, the meeting ended, and Griphook took Harry down to his parents' vault. He gasped as he entered. It was at least quadruple the size of his trust vault.

"This is all mine?" he asked.

"If you had paid attention in our meeting, Mr. Potter, you would not have needed to ask a question," Griphook snapped. Harry turned to apologize, but the Goblin continued, "When you are finished, ring the bell on the door," and left quickly.

Harry sighed and went further into the vault. The shock of the revelation seemed to have worn off, and now all that remained was resolution. Since he entered the Wizarding World, he was always compared to James Potter. 'Just like your father, Harry, with your mother's eyes.' That had been a lie. He needed to know who his father was. He needed to know.

Harry looked around. Maybe an answer lay in these vaults. Surely his parents left some note or explanation? Gold was everywhere, along with jewels and furniture. No letters or paperwork in plain sight. He spotted some trunks – maybe the answers he sought were in there?

There were a dozen trunks. Thankfully they all had labels. 'Jewelry,' 'Books,' 'Weapons,' 'Lily Evans' – aha! Harry pulled the trunk away from the others and stared at it. It was a worn school trunk, that much was obvious. Aside from his mother's name on the front, there was a faded white lily on top that looked to have been hand-painted on. He gently stroked the lily. He imagined the red-headed girl from Snape's memories painting this, excited to be attending Hogwarts. Could she have imagined where that path would lead?

It was locked, so he used 'Alohomora' to open it. Like Moody's trunk, it held several compartments. The first was full of trinkets, costume jewelry, and school robes, and the next was just school books. Harry began to feel worry as he opened up the last compartment. What if this was only her old school things? The boy had no idea where to search next if there was nothing there.

The last was a hodgepodge of items. Letters tied in ribbon, notebooks, journals, a broomstick, and old newspaper clippings. He took out all the items with the exception of the broomstick.

Harry examined the letters first, but all of them were from James Potter. No mysterious lovers. He felt acid come up his throat. Yesterday, he would have been ecstatic to find these, and now he just felt sick. His worldview was shattered. James Potter was not his father. Harry felt a flash of anger surge through him, and he threw the letters back into the trunk. No, James Potter was the man his mother cuckolded.

He glanced back down at the rest of the items. Did he really want to know? At first he was determined, but now all Harry felt was anger toward this faceless man – this man with the face he probably mimicked. That man slept with a married woman, and left her pregnant. Did he really want to meet that man?

Yes, he did need to know. He needed to know who the man was. He needed to know.

The notebooks turned out to be research into different charms, and the old newspaper clippings Harry recognized were about Voldemort in some fashion, whether about mysterious disappearances, muggle gas leaks, or obituaries. He put them back into the trunk and looked at the journals.

It seemed his mother had kept journals from the start of Hogwarts until her death. There was a journal for every year. Harry hesitated. Although he made up his mind to pursue the truth, his heart was apprehensive. Closing his eyes, he breathed in. He could do this. He then picked up the 1993 journal and began to flip through.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excerpts from Lily's journal. (By the way, the silliness of Lily keeping a journal will be brought up in a later chapter). For the record, if there is an "..." that means that parts of the journal are being skipped. Please enjoy!

Harry began to leaf through his mother's journal.

_20 July 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_Today is my one-year wedding anniversary, and I wish we could enjoy it more. We had planned to hole ourselves away in Godric's Hollow, but Dumbledore called an emergency meeting. The Prewitt twins were killed last night, and apparently Molly was inconsolable. It didn't help that Sirius tried to cheer her up by saying that at least they died like heroes. Who ever made the decision to have that man be the bearer of bad news was not thinking straight._

_Anyway, Dumbledore called the meeting to honour Fabian and Gideon and to plan the next move. James was heartbroken. The three got on like a house on fire, and he always said that he thought of them as un-official Marauders._

_After the meeting, James and I tried to be romantic, but we're exhausted – emotionally and physically. We're going to bed early..._

He skipped some pages.

_1 August 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_Work has been grueling lately. With the war on, the higher-ups are on us to create newer and newer charms – they don't get that it_ takes time! _We are not machines just coming out with new spells willy nilly! I understand the war is on – more than many – but I can only do my best, but that never seems enough._

_James doesn't get why I am so upset, basically saying that I shouldn't be complaining all the time and that I never seem up for anything 'fun.' When I try to explain to him how complex the process is and how exhausted I am, he doesn't get it! He's been out on his auror duties all day catching dark wizards and since all I do is sit around a desk, I should be the one putting in more an effort in the home. It's times like these I remember why he was labeled an arrogant toerag in my previous journals. He just makes me so mad!..._

He began to feel sick, and he flipped forward more pages.

_30 August 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_James has been a dear this week after I broke down a week ago. We've been trying to communicate better, so he understands what I'm feeling and I understand what he's thinking before it leads me to breaking all the dinner plates again._

_Even though we are trying to work on our marriage, I can't help but feel – I don't know, distant from James. We are barely intimate anymore. A year ago, we were so blissfully in love – where has it gone? It's so difficult to articulate! I love James, I know I do, but that feeling of overwhelming love has withered. I don't know what to do..._

Harry knew that his parents' marriage must have hit a rough patch, but it was difficult to read. He skimmed the journal. His mother was so unhappy. He stopped flipping through pages when he began to read the first bit of excitement Lily had expressed in ages. Maybe there would be a clue here.

_19 September 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_Dumbledore wants me to go on a mission for the Order! In a month's time, I will be going into the muggle world to research different technology and weapons that we could potentially use for our side. James was furious – we already avoided Voldemort once now, and he doesn't want me in danger – but Dumbledore was more than right that I was the only one in the Order with expertise in charms to see which weapons we would be able to charm and convert to magical weaponry – and it's the muggle world! I will probably be safer going to the Stark London Expo than going into the Ministry like I do every day for work._

_I didn't tell him, but I think it will be nice to have a little time away and be by myself. A little fresh air will do me good..._

A month's time – that would line up with his... conception, Harry thought distastefully. Was that where she met  _him_?

Harry skipped forward until he found the entry he was looking for.

_24 October 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_Tomorrow's the big day! All the research I have been doing on Stark Enterprises the past month will be worth it – the Stark London Expo! There looks to be a lot of promising technology, but I won't know until I actually handle them. Dumbledore did a great job with my cover story as a RAF consultant – I know I wouldn't have been let anywhere near the items had I come in as an ordinary civilian..._

_Another reason why I am glad to being going is James – he has been so annoying lately, trying to treat me as if I can't handle my own. He can be so infuriating! I plan to have the time of my life at this Expo, just you wait..._

Harry snorted and scowled. Yeah, the time of your life, cheating on my fath- on James. He skipped to the next entry.

_25 October 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_I had such a wonderful time today. I found some tech and weaponry that I think we can adapt into magic! But, that is not the best part!_

_Tony Stark himself took an interest in me! I told him I was married, but he just carried on with his flirting. Normally I would have been turned off by that, but he was so charming – and intelligent, though I hate to admit I was surprised. In my research, I found he had such a reputation that I wasn't sure if it was true that he was the brain behind much of the technology. We discussed physics and the uses of potential energies within the tech – and, well, I had such a wonderful time. I can't remember the last time I laughed or smiled..._

Harry quickly flipped to the next entry. Bile rose in his throat: he knew what was coming.

_26 October 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_I can't believe what I did – I slept with him. Tony Stark – a man that is not my husband. I feel so guilty!_

_Tony was so charming, kept calling me his 'Emerald-Eyed Lily' – that he had never seen any woman with such beautiful, startling green eyes. It was so romantic. I felt seventeen again, with James wooing me. I just wanted to hold onto that feeling._

_I had a couple of drinks, but that was no excuse, I knew what I was doing. I kissed him, and he brought me up to his penthouse suite. I knew that I would regret it, but I felt if I didn't have that moment I would regret it even more..._

It was official: his mother committed adultery with Tony Stark. Tony Stark was his father.

Although he knew it had been coming, it was still a blow to him. He began to flip through the rest of the entries haphazardly, stopping at ones that seemed important.

_13 November 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_James knows something is wrong. I don't know what I'm going to do, if I can keep it a secret much longer. The guilt is killing me..._

_..._

_15 November 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_I should have started my period yesterday, but even today it hasn't come. What if it's not stress – what if I'm pregnant? Oh Merlin..._

_..._

_16 November 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_I had to be sure – I went to the mediwitch today, and she confirmed what I feared. I'm pregnant. She was so happy for me, but all I feel is sick. It's my baby, I can't give it up. I have to tell him. Tonight. Best get it over with. Merlin, I will be a pregnant, 20 year-old_ _divorcée_ _, I just know it. How could James keep me after this..._

_..._

_17 November 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_As expected, James went ballistic tonight. He's gone to stay with Sirius. All I can do is cry into his pillow..._

_..._

_18 November 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_I woke up alone. I didn't hear from James all day, not that I expected to. Tomorrow I plan to go into work as usual. I have no more tears to cry, and if I am going to be miserable I might as well do so while being paid._

_Love, Lily_

_21 November 1993_

_Dear Journal,_

_After work three days ago, I went to Diagon Alley to sort out my accounts with Gringotts. If James was going to leave me, I thought I might as well make sure I put all the money I made into a separate account, just in case he decided to be vindictive._

_Before I reached the bank, Death Eaters arrived. I barely remember it, but apparently I fought well and managed to evade Voldemort again. I got hit with a curse and lost consciousness._

_I woke up today in St. Mungos with James at my side. I was so surprised. I could tell he had been crying._

_He said I almost miscarried, and the way the curse had worked, I would have died along with the baby. He didn't know if I was going to wake up. He said he had so much time to think while I was unconscious, and that he couldn't imagine living without me by his side. He wanted to give us another shot._

_I was so choked up, I could barely respond. I kissed him, and had him lay next to me. I was so afraid – I had just gotten him back, by some miracle, he wanted me back! – but I had to ask about the baby._

_He was silent for a long time, and then put his hand on my stomach. He said he honestly wasn't sure how he would feel about the baby when it came, but he would try. For me, he would try._

_How could I have ever doubted our love?..._

_..._

_25 December 1993_

_Merry Christmas Journal!_

_Today was such a wonderful day. We celebrated with the Marauders, and you know that Sirius always puts on a show..._

_Later James and I celebrated in private. He gave me the most wonderful gift – even now I am so emotional, even with the hormones – I can barely write._

_He is going to accept my baby – our baby – as his own. There is a way that he can blood-adopt the baby, so the child is recognized as a Potter by Magick. The child will be James' magical heir._

_I can't believe how blessed I am..._

_No one will ever know of my mistake.._

Harry closed the book, his vision blurred. As he wiped his eyes, all he could think of was his mother's words: mistake. He was a mistake.


	4. Chapter 4

Walking out of Gringotts, Harry spotted Ron and Hermione waiting for him. He tried to mask the turmoil of emotions that were coursing through him. He could not tell them – not yet, not when he did not even know where he was going to go next with the new, startling information.

It had been a fortnight since the final battle, and things were finally starting to wind down. The last funeral had been yesterday and though the war trials were just beginning, Interim Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt had accepted copies of Harry's memories in lieu of physical testimony, so he would not have to attend. Harry was grateful. He was exhausted of being the Chosen One, the Man-Who-Killed-You-Know-Who – he was ready to just be Harry Potter. And now he learned he was not even a true Potter. Why can't his life be easy?

"Harry, did you get everything settled at Gringotts?" Hermione asked and looked at her watch. She sure hoped he had – he had been in there for hours.

"Yeah, Hermione, don't worry," Harry said, attempting to smile. "It was just as Draco said it would be, mostly paperwork."

Ron scowled, which caused Harry to stop trying to keep his smile up. Even with all they had been through, Ron still could not accept the friendship he struck up with Draco two years ago. It frustrated Harry, because Draco, though snarky, had a good heart. He had defied his parents and chose to fight for the Light.

After Malfoy senior was imprisoned as a result of his involvement in the Department of Mysteries, Draco went to Dumbledore to seek asylum. His mother had written to him about being prepared for a  _guest_  at the manor upon his return and to be prepared for a  _great task_. Draco was terrified: the previous summer, the Dark Lord visited from time to time, and the boy did not like what he saw. The man was not the epitome of greatness and power he had been reared to idolize as child: Voldemort was mad and enjoyed torturing his supporters' for the littlest mistakes. What truly caused the seed of doubt to grow in Draco's mind was what the snake-faced man had reduced his father to.

Lucius Malfoy was Draco's world. Ever since he could remember, he wanted to be the perfect image of his father, because the man was always the most important person in the room, and everyone deferred to him. Lucius' power within the Ministry of Magic was fantastic, and he even had the ear of the minister himself! Draco was proud to be a Malfoy, and he never wanted to disappoint his father.

Witnessing the proud Malfoy patriarch groveling on his knees for forgiveness for some inconsequential mistake shattered Draco's belief in his father's path. How could the man who had taught him to always stand on his own two feet and that no person in the world could be superior to a Malfoy now live on his knees serving a lunatic?

After reading the letter from his mother, Draco knew he could not return home. He knew that the Dark Lord would take his anger out on him and that he would likely be forced to do something he otherwise would not do. So, he turned to Headmaster Dumbledore.

Surprising to Draco, but not surprising to anyone within the Order, Dumbledore had offered him asylum. In return, Draco worked with the Order going through the Black library during that summer and then what would have been his seventh year at Hogwarts, researching any information that would help them in their quest to destroy the Dark Lord and dismantle his budding empire. His work became instrumental in researching of the horcruxes and how the golden trio could safely destroy them – including the one in Harry's head – on their quest. The books with those particular answers had been part of a collection that could only be accessed by pureblood of Black lineage. The books were funny that way.

"I still don't understand why you live with the git," Ron grumbled as they started to leave the alley. "Fine, he had his uses, now it's time for him to crawl back into the hole he came from."

Harry began to walk quicker and ignored his best friend.

Best friend. He had thought about that lately, why he still said Ron was his best friend, because Ron sure made it difficult for him to even think that in his mind. All he did was complain about Harry's choices or indulge himself in the spotlight that came with being involved in the war. He understood that Ron had always wanted something to mark him as different from his brothers, so of course he was relishing in the fame, but Harry was tired. Tired of being understanding, tired of being dragged into public when all he wanted to do was rest, tired of being criticized for his wants. Although not as obvious as Ron, Hermione was starting to become just as bad and more manipulative. She was becoming political, saying they should make these appearances in public, speak with the press. She was so cross when she found out Harry chose to not attend the trials, saying it was the perfect opportunity to build political capital. She did not get how he could just lounge about Grimmauld all day playing with Teddy or sleeping and had even accused him of being lazy.

Harry had not even realized how domineering his friends were until he became friends with Draco. In the past two weeks, the Slytherin did not make him talk about his feelings, leave the house, or go into the public. Draco did not have any expectations from him other than eating three meals a day, and even then when Harry was having a depressive episode, he would not make a big deal of it and would bring the food to him, making sure he ate at least half of it.

The funny thing was, because Draco did not push, Harry felt he could be open about himself. There was no pity or judgment, which was what he usually got from Ron and Hermione. Draco empathized with Harry.

It had taken the almost the whole summer before Sixth Year and Narcissa Malfoy's death for the two to bond as friends. Narcissa had refused Dumbledore's offer asylum, stating she had set her path, so she would see it through. Her path ended by Voldemort's wand a week before term, and that was when Draco broke down to Harry. The Gryffindor understood more than anyone about how powerful grief could be. The two commiserated about the losses they had endured, how they never wanted to be part of this war and yet here they were. Harry had lost his childhood and his godfather; and Draco his security in his family and then his mother.

Maybe that was the reason Ron and Hermione didn't  _get it_. They had lost no one in the war, although the Weasley family had a few close calls. Ron and Hermione did not understand the cost the Light's victory had on the mourning families, the guilt of surviving.

Harry was itching to talk to Draco. Maybe he would know what Harry's next move should be, if any. Should he try to contact his father? Harry was torn.

"Harry, slow down – you're going the wrong way!" Hermione exclaimed and grabbed his arm. "We were meant to go to meet with some supporters –"

"Hermione, I told you, I just wanted to run errands today," Harry snapped, pulling his arm away.

"Don't be silly, Harry, we need to –" Hermione started.

"No, Hermione, I'm tired, and I'm going home," Harry cut her off and entered the Leaky Cauldron to use their floo. Harry regretted Diagon Alley's anti-apparition wards: he wished he could just pop out of there right now.

"All you ever are anymore is tired!" Hermione cried. The room quieted down and everyone turned to her, and her cheeks stained red. Ron put his hand on the small of her back and glared at Harry. She began to whisper. "It is important that we take advantage of this time, to gain supporters –"

"Important to who Hermione?" Harry snapped, not whispering. "I don't need supporters, I don't plan to do anything more! I told you, all I want is peace –"

"Who better to ensure it than you?" she replied crossly, whipping her hair back.

"I have done my duty, Hermione, now leave me be!" Harry exclaimed, and before she could catch his arm again, he flooed to Grimmauld Place.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco looked up as Harry fell through the kitchen floo. He sighed. The boy could take down an entire terrorist organization but not walk out of the floo like a normal wizard. As Harry charmed himself clean, Draco noticed the anger on the other boy's face and bit back another sigh. He was a Malfoy: it would not do to be sighing all the time like some put upon housewife.

"What did they do this time?" Draco had no doubts it was Weasel and Granger. Lately, it was always those two or the Weaselette that put Harry into a mood. Granger and her tag-along Weasel were trying to dive into politics and attempting to use Harry as a figurehead for their own ambitions. Weaselette could not get it through her thick skull that she and Harry were broken up.

Draco smirked. He was proud he was instrumental in preventing that potential train wreck. In Sixth Year, after Harry's continual pestering about what girl Draco liked – since Harry started a relationship with Weaselette, apparently the boy got it into his head to play match-maker - Draco revealed his homosexuality. That shut Harry up. The Slytherin always knew he was gay, but his mother had urged him to keep it from his father, who had made it clear that Draco would marry a pureblood girl to carry on the Malfoy line. He had been resigned to marrying a woman, siring an heir, and then having lovers on the side; but with the war over and his father in prison for life, he was free to do what or rather who he wanted, not that Draco had any idea yet who that might be.

Before Draco's revelation, Harry apparently had never considered his own sexuality. Yes he dated Cho Chang in Fifth Year and then Ginny Weasley in Sixth, but he never felt any urges. When he did not find any interest in Seamus and Dean's man talk, he thought that was just stress from the war. He had never even thought of being with other men, what with the Dursley's ingraining into him that homosexuality was dirty and sinful. He had finally admitted this to Draco last December, when Harry stayed at Grimmauld to briefly escape the cold winter of the forest and being the third wheel to Weasley and Granger's relationship. The Slytherin scoffed at his confession and lent forward and whispered "Livin' in sin is the new thing" (1) – and kissed the other boy. Harry said after that he had felt something within him move, that kissing Cho and Ginny had never felt this satisfying.

After snogging for a bit, the boys realized three things: Harry was gay, they were better off friends than lovers, and Draco had an unhealthy obsession with Britney Spears.

"Hermione trying to organize something, again!" Harry huffed, bringing Draco back to the present. "And Ron being his usual berk self! I can't believe I actually believed they would be willing just to have an afternoon shopping and running errands without an ulterior motive. Have they always been like that?"

Although Draco knew it was rhetorical, he could not help but answer, "Do you really want the answer to that?"

Harry let out a puff of air and fell onto the stool across from Draco. He glanced at the blonde through his fringe.

"Yes, actually, I do," Harry replied.

"Then yes, they have," Draco replied and turned back to the stacks of parchments on the table. He smirked inwardly as he saw Harry slump into his arms.

"C'mon Dray, you have to give me more than that," Harry whined into his arms.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Whom should I start with?" Draco said sarcastically, tapping his chin. "The Weasel has abandoned you how many times because of jealousy? And Granger had that ridiculous house-elf campaign, Spoo –"

"S.P.E.W.," Harry interjected.

"Like it really it matters – it was ridiculous!" Draco exclaimed. "And then organizing the D.A. in Fifth Year, almost getting you expelled! Then her insisting on you getting her into the Slug Club –"

"Fine, Draco, I get it," Harry said, slightly muffled as he was still wallowing in his folded arms.

Draco stopped in his rant and peered at Harry suspiciously. His friend usually would conjure up some fight in him when Draco attacked his 'friends.' Something was afoot. Had the two dunderheads finally crossed the line?

"What up, dawg?" Draco asked, and he poked Harry in the head. That got a reaction.

"Merlin, Draco – nobody says that anymore!" Harry yelped and lifted his head. "I am so taking away the tele, you've been watching too much MTV –"

"Seriously, Harry, what happened?" Draco asked again, ignoring the Gryffindor's threats. If he had a knut for all the times Harry had threatened his TV privileges, he would have been able to buy his own magically altered set. "I know something happened."

Harry looked at Draco, unsure of how to articulate what happened. He pulled out his mother's journal from his messenger bag and handed it to the blonde.

"My mother, she – well, she – just read this, please, Draco," Harry said. He unconsciously gave the Slytherin his kicked puppy look. "I just – I don't know what to do. I need to go lay down." He left before Draco could reply.

Draco looked curiously at the book in hands. Lily Evans' journal? This should prove interesting.

~Time Skip~

Harry woke up several hours later to Draco putting his food tray on the dresser. He put on his glasses, and set up in his bed. He gasped and shut his eyes when Draco used his wand to open the curtains. Sunlight poured into the room.

"Seriously, Potter it's 4:30 in the afternoon," Draco scowled. He put the tray across Harry's lap. "I swear if you don't eat all the soup and at least half of the sandwiches I will spell those drapes to never close again."

"Not a Potter," Harry mumbled mournfully as he picked up his spoon and began to eat the soup. Even through his upset, he knew Draco never joked about food, and those drapes were slowly becoming a necessity.

Draco moved around to the other side of the bed and sat next to Harry, leaning on the headboard. He studied his friend. The Slytherin had not said a word, but he was worried about Harry. He reminded Draco of when his mother had miscarried when he was seven. It took six months for Mother to work her way out of what he had childishly thought of as her 'tired-time.' Draco had been angry with her, because she would never play with him and the fact she would lash out at Father for trying to forcibly get her out of bed. He knew better now, how serious that time had actually been, how his mother had been ill and lethargic with grief.

Harry had been frighteningly similar when Weasel and Granger tried to make him leave Grimmauld the day after the battle. His magic went haywire and banished them from the property. The Gryffindork, of course, had apologized, but Draco had noticed he did not fix the wards to allow them visitation again.

Having witnessed Harry's reaction, Draco acted as he normally did and mostly let him be. The only unstated rule was Harry had to eat three meals a day, even if Draco had to spoon-feed him in his bed. It never got that far, after all Draco was the master of snark, and Harry responded well to snark. Harry had begun to do better, not taking as many naps, and often kept Draco company as the Slytherin tried to sort out his family business accounts (Lucius had let it fall to the wayside what with his hobbies) or babysat his godson Teddy while Andromeda went through the arrangements for her families' funerals and preparing to take care of a baby full-time.

The information Harry received today caused a setback to say the least. Draco hated setbacks. He needed figure out how to help Harry climb this obstacle. Draco refused to lose Harry to his 'tired-time.' First things first, he had to set something straight.

"Of course you are a Potter," Draco drawled. "You must be the Potteriest Potter in centuries."

"What does that even mean?" Harry sighed. He picked up one of the sandwiches. "Never mind. Didn't you read the journal?"

"Yes, I read the journal," Draco replied, folding his arms. "Do all muggleborn women write down all their thoughts? It just seems so silly, time-consuming, and unsafe – I mean, anyone could find it and read it, and then what would the point be? All your secrets out for the world to see –"

Harry threw down the sandwich.

"For fuck's sake, Draco, just be serious!" Harry bellowed. "Everything I have known has been a lie. Who am I? Everyone always said, 'You look just like your father, Harry' – well no, actually, I may just not! Because who knows what he looks like! My mum slutted it up –"

"Enough Harry," Draco interrupted firmly. He needed Harry to calm down before Draco had to clean up broken glass from the windows exploding. Again. "Now continue to eat your sandwich as I speak." He waited until the Gryffindor begrudgingly had picked up the chewed on sandwich and taken another bite.

"Now listen to me, Harry," Draco continued calmly. "Yes, I can understand that this is a shock. What you have known for nearly eighteen years as fact has been uprooted. But let's get a few things straight.

"You are a Potter. The fact that James Potter blood-adopted you makes you a Potter in all ways that matter. It is not spoken of, but in years past it was a common practice for purebloods to adopt or use surrogates to continue the family line. Actually, I'm surprised he came up with the idea – it was banned by the Ministry for being Dark, just because it involved blood-magic, which of course those dunderheads are squeamish over –"

"Of course," Harry chimed in and took another bite of his sandwich. Draco ranting about the Ministry's ineptness was normal. He needed a bit of normal right now.

"Anyway, the point is, you are a Potter," Draco said. "No matter what you do with this new information, just know: you are a Potter. And, James Potter wanted you. That is the thing about blood-adoption: the potential new parent has to be completely accepting of the child to make him his heir. Else, women could pass off children as their husband's without them knowing, which is against everything inherent in Magick.

"In the Olde Ways, magic was celebrated as a gift. That was the reason why squibs were ostracized, that Magick had not found them worthy of such a gift. Anyway, the only way to pass on magic is to gift it: in a gift, consent is paramount."

"What about when Voldemort?" Harry asked and gestured to his scar. "He gifted me with the horcrux and parseltongue –"

"Okay, I'm not saying that there aren't exceptions," Draco exasperated. "But in general, that is how Magick works. Therefore, James Potter wanted you. He cared for you. He died for you. You are his son."

Harry deflated and pushed the tray away and brought his knees up to his chest. He hugged them.

"How could – how could he just forgive her?" Harry cried, and he battled to keep tears from his eyes. "How could he accept his wife's child with another man? How could he care for me when I was a constant reminder of his wife's infidelity?"

Draco, not say anything, just put his arm around Harry's shoulders. They remained silent for a while.

"I could not possibly say I know the exact reasoning of James Potter," Draco said after a time. "There could be many things. Being a pureblood, maybe he didn't believe in divorce. Maybe he saw this as a great opportunity, fearing his own fertility – his parents were childless for a long time before he was born, so maybe he was worried he too would have difficulty producing children. Or maybe, it is the simplest answer of them all: he loved her so much, he was willing to forgive her indiscretion, one that she obviously regretted." Draco paused and then asked the question he now knew was the true issue at hand. "The question is: will you be able to forgive her?"

"I don't know, Dray," Harry whispered and set his head on Draco's shoulder, tears starting to fall. "I just don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Lyric from "3" by Britney Spears


	6. Chapter 6

Harry woke up some time later to cooing. He opened his eyes and saw that Teddy's bassinette had been placed next to his bed. Harry smiled. The infant was one of the only lights of Harry's life at the moment. He was still devastated that Teddy was orphaned – losing Remus and Tonks was such a blow – but it gave Harry a purpose: he had to live on to care for his Godson.

A couple of days after the battle, Harry had contacted Andromeda in hopes of meeting his Godson, and she agreed to meet with him at Grimmauld Place that evening. When Andromeda introduced Theodore Remus Lupin to his Godfather and Harry held the boy for the first time, he knew he was in love. Teddy was just shy of a month old, and when his little fingers squeezed Harry's index finger, he felt his magic surge and an urge to cuddle the boy tight to his chest and never let go. It took everything he had to lay him down in his bassinet in order to speak with Andromeda.

At first the older woman was reserved. He thought it was because they barely knew each other, as he had only met her once, and or just the fact she was grieving the loss of her only child. Andromeda had wanted little part in the war, fearing facing her little sisters on the other side of the battlefield, because even though she had not seen them in over two decades, she could not shake the protective love she felt for those fallen daughters of the House of Black. Then, upon Ted's death and Tonks' pregnancy, she had hid with her daughter, hoping they could escape the bloodshed. Fate, as always, was cruel in that regard.

Once Andromeda and Harry started to speak, he realized she was afraid he would fight for custody. Later, he expressed his surprise to Draco that Andromeda thought that he would not only try to take custody away from her, but that he would  _win_. In typical fashion, the Slytherin rolled his eyes and explained yet another aspect of the Wizarding World where Harry's knowledge was lacking.

To be a Godfather or Godmother in the Wizarding World was much more than just a title: it was Olde Magick, a bond that if tended to could be as strong as a parental bond. The origins are somewhat unclear, but Draco thought it had to do with Magick's internal system of making sure that parents' did not abuse their progeny. Child abuse was rare in this society, because Godparents were able to check parents' actions. If a child is orphaned, a Godparent almost always won custody when pursued, because of the traditions and wish for magical stability for the child.

At any rate, he reassured her that he would not challenge her for custody. Andromeda had lost almost her entire family – her husband, her daughter, her son-in-law: all she had left was Teddy. Harry already felt guilty for not being able to save Remus and Tonks, and he could not take away another member of Andromeda's family, no matter how much he selfishly wanted to whisk away with Teddy and never return.

Harry only asked that he be permitted visitation with his Godson, and Andromeda looked physically relieved at this and agreed wholeheartedly. Their conversation afterward was pleasant, given the circumstances. In the end, they agreed that Harry would watch over Teddy while Andromeda made arrangements to lay to rest the boy's parents and prepare to raise Teddy fulltime. There was much for her to do: having to work with the funeral home to make sure her daughter and son-in-law were buried next to one another, close out their accounts to make a trust for Teddy, buy and furnish a new home to live in, and list went on. Harry was surprised and impressed that she could have the strength carry on, and he was more than happy to look after the baby while she went to work starting the new chapter of her life.

The only hiccup in this plan was when she found out that Draco was staying at Grimmauld with him. Andromeda was somewhat suspicious of Draco, but after Harry reassured her that he trusted the blonde with his life and Teddy's, she agreed to meet her nephew to evaluate him herself. After having heard her daughter complain about the Malfoy scion, she was happily surprised that Draco was polite and pleasant to speak with. Draco admitted that he had grown a lot in two years, and after all their loss, the family could not continue to be divided over such inconsequential things. She agreed and told him and Harry to expect Teddy the next day. Indeed, during the last two weeks, Andromeda often ended up passing the baby to Draco - as Harry's horrible sleep schedule caused him to sleep in - when she dropped the lad off for the day, and that made it clear to Harry and Draco she no longer reservations doing so.

If Teddy was here now, Harry must have slept through the whole evening and night after his breakdown with Draco. He cast  _tempus_  and confirmed it was 10:08am. At that moment, Teddy's cooing started to warble, which Harry learned was the start of a cry, so he quickly threw the covers off and got out of bed. Picking up Teddy, he carefully cuddled the snuffling boy to his chest and bounced and rocked him.

Harry was still amazed at how little Teddy was and how much love he felt for the child. The boy had a full head of sandy-blonde hair, but Harry hoped that it would change, and he would inherit his mother's talent. When he brought up the possibility to Andromeda, she mentioned, with a slight tear at the memory, her liitle Nymphadora had started to change her hair color at two years, the age when magical babies normally started accidental magic. Metamorphmagi were no different.

After less than a minute of rocking, Teddy quieted, but Harry knew it would not be for long. It was about time for the baby's bottle, so the teenager carried the little one down to the kitchen where he found the common sight of Draco pouring over paperwork. The blonde glanced at the two, and gestured to the counter.

"Fantastic, I was about to wake you up – the miscreant's bottle is over there," Draco grumbled and focused back on his papers.

Shaking his head, Harry smiled and set about feeding Teddy. Draco liked to pretend he was above domesticity, but Harry knew he was smitten with the boy too. He caught them together a couple of times after he woke up from his naps, with Draco swaddling the little one and rocking him.

Once Teddy was fed and burped, he promptly fell back asleep. Prepared for this, Draco waved his wand and summoned the boy's bassinette. Harry placed Teddy inside, being careful to put him on his back, and then sat down across from Draco. The blonde pushed toast and strawberry jam toward Harry and poured him a cup of tea as well, which Harry accepted. He was grateful Draco was not insisting on a bigger breakfast: he felt slightly nauseous after last night.

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked as he spread the jam on his toast and took a bite.

"Information on Tony Stark," Draco replied simply as if he was talking about the weather or that pumpkin juice was on sale at the local market.

Harry choked on his toast and quickly swallowed down half his tea to get the rest of it down.

"Why the hell would you do that!?" Harry shouted and stood so quickly his stool fell over.

"Potter, you are going to wake the baby –" Draco started, but was interrupted by Teddy's whimper. Both Draco and Harry froze, and after a beat, Teddy remained silent. They both sighed in relief. As Harry righted the stool and then sat down, his anger came back to him.

"Why are you doing that?" Harry forcibly whispered.

"Because, you dolt, if you want to make an informed decision about how to move forward, you need to do research," Draco replied calmly. "So, I decided to help you out and get it started since I'm a  _nice_  person."

"It's not your place –" Harry started, but Draco interrupted.

"Yes it is," Draco snapped. He and Harry both froze and glanced quickly at the bassinette, but the little one did not stir. He continued. "You made it my business by telling me, or rather indirectly telling me – which is not very Gryffindorish, I must say – and asking for my advice. And my advice? You need all the information you can get to make an informed decision instead of the reckless ones you usually make."

Harry remained silent and stared at his clenched fists. He took a breath and released them. Harry was not sure what had come over him – Draco was right: he had asked for help. Rather than throwing a tantrum, he should be grateful for Draco getting to the business of it immediately.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I guess I was just surprised," Harry said and looked back up at the blonde. Draco nodded in acceptance and turned back to the papers. "So, what can you tell me?"

"Apparently your father is more famous than you are, and we both know that's saying something," Draco said, and he began to read the dossier he had created about one Anthony Stark.

Anthony "Tony" Stark was a businessman and inventor who had inherited his father's technology manufacturing business at age 21. He liked to focus more on the invention side of the company rather than management – he was quite the genius, apparently – and in recent years, he made his former secretary, Virginia "Pepper" Potts the CEO of the company. He was known to be a womanizer but is now rumored to be dating said former secretary now CEO. Five years ago, he had been visiting troops in Afghanistan, where the muggles were fighting a war, and was injured and kept hostage. He managed to escape and decided to stop his company from manufacturing weapons anymore. Instead, he focused on defense systems and renewable energy sources, and he ended up creating a machine-suit, which he used to fight crime as the superhero Ironman. He now worked with a team called the Avengers, and they had been integral in saving New York City from some alien invasion.

"How is that real?" Harry gasped, his mind reeling.

"Hello, pot calling the kettle black much? I think he would say the same thing if he learned your story, Harry," Draco replied and hesitated. "Do you – do you want to see a picture of him?" After Harry nodded, Draco pushed a picture of Tony Stark from some Congressional Hearing – whatever that was – over to the other boy.

Harry stared at the photo, not quite believing was he was seeing. It was like looking into a mirror, if that mirror showed what you would look like in 20 years. Same flyaway black hair, nose, and jaw. Harry began to laugh hysterically.

"What is it?" Draco asked quickly, afraid his friend had finally lost it.

"It's just –" Harry tried to reply, but his giggles were taking over. He took another breath and started again. "It's just  _true_! I do look like my father with my mother's eyes! How stupid is that?"

Draco just stared at him, not knowing what to say. When Harry finally calmed down, he seemed to wilt as he looked at the picture again.

"What should I do Draco?" Harry asked. He could not take his eyes off the man: his father – his living father. "Should I try to contact him?"

"That, Harry, is up to you, your choice," Draco said quietly. Harry looked back up at Draco, confused. The Gryffindor was hoping ever since he found out that Draco would know what to do. Harry opened his mouth to state that but stopped when Draco put his hand up. "No, Harry let me finish. I said I would give you advice, but my advice stops at what I said before: getting as much information as possible to make an informed decision. I am not the Weasel or Granger – or even Dumbledore. I refuse to tell you what to do or what you should do when it comes to something as big as this. This is your life, Harry. I'm not so good with feelings –" Harry snorted, but Draco ignored it – "but, I guess – I care about you – your wellbeing, and – Look, what I want is for you to do what's best for you, what you want to do. I want you to decide what you want to do with your life, because I want you to be able to stand on your own two feet."

Draco flushed, folding his arms as he looked at anything but Harry. Harry felt touched: he had known the blonde cared for him, in his own way, and that it took a lot for him to finally admit it out loud. Harry could tell Draco was being honest when he said he did not want to manipulate his life.

Harry looked back down at the photo, catching the man's, his father's, brown eyes. They twinkled with confidence and self-assurance, as if nothing could touch him. All Harry's life, he had prayed and wished that he had a parent out there he could run to, to make the hurt and terribleness of his life disappear. When he was locked in his cupboard under the stairs with only the spiders for company, he would beg for someone to save him. Now, he got what he wished for. His father was out there, alive and well. Thinking of what that little boy in the cupboard would say if he knew of his older version's conundrum, Harry made a decision.

"Draco, would your willingness to give advice possibly extend on how to contact my father?"


	7. Chapter 7

The next day, Harry found himself in his new, formal robes sitting his study. He was waiting for the arrival of his solicitor Mr. Barnaby Balderdash of Balderdash and Balderdash. When Harry had asked Draco for help on how to move forward in contacting his father, Draco smirked and had produced a parchment with an address for the Potter family’s solicitor for Harry to contact.

At first Harry protested, stating that he should just go in person, but Draco reminded him of his father’s place in the world. It was unlikely that some teenage ragamuffin – “Seriously, Potter, you’re not on the run anymore, no reason to look like some street-rat!” – claiming to be the son of Tony Stark would even be let into the building, let alone meet with the man. No, this had to be done through official channels. Harry conceded for the moment, but he denied the accusation he looked ratty. Draco merely raised an eyebrow.

So, Harry contacted the solicitor about meeting the next day, and Draco gave him a makeover. By the time they returned, Harry’s Wardrobe had quintupled, and he had a variety of nice Wizarding and muggle garb. Harry had to admit it was a lot more fun than he thought it would be. Draco would go through racks, pilling them into Harry’s arms for the Gryffindor to try on. The best part was Draco very seriously judging the fashions Harry had changed into while he wore the front-side baby sling with Teddy in awe of the new places they went to.

Upon their return to Grimmauld, Balderdash had replied, agreeing to meet at Harry’s residence in the morning. Harry was surprised he would agree to a meeting so quickly, which, yet again, Draco rolled his eyes at – “You are _Harry Potter_ you idiot! Of course he would accommodate you.” Harry, being in a playful mood, responded by stealthily turning Draco’s hair red. The former blonde did not notice until Andromeda burst out laughing when she came to pick up Teddy. That had led to Harry being chased around the house.

Harry had laughed so hard when Draco tackled him. He had not had that much fun in too long and felt much lighter. Even Draco looked like he almost regretted they had to stop horse playing around and work on what Harry would speak with the solicitor about. Draco informed Harry he would not be attending the meeting, as it was not proper; but he would make a list of topics he should broach and how to act within the meeting.

A knock on the door broke Harry out of his reverie. He stood and welcomed his visitor.

Barnaby Balderdash was an old man who was probably close to Dumbledore’s age before his death. However, unlike the former Headmaster, he was clean-shaven with a crown of salt-and-pepper hair. Mechanically, he struggled with walking, his feet moving wider than maybe they should in a stride, and used a cane to compensate. Despite this, he had an air of confidence that made you forget his malady. He nodded to Harry and shook his hand.

“Barnaby Balderdash at your service, Mr. Potter,” the man said, smiling, and then gestured to the chair across from Harry’s own. “If you don’t mind I sit? My knees aren’t what they used to be.” Before Harry opened his mouth to reply that he did not mind, the solicitor took it upon himself to sit down. Harry sat down as well. “Now, Mr. Potter, I am quite interested in what you would like my services for. Your letter was rather vague.”

“First I want you to take this,” Harry said, and just as he and Draco spoke about, pulled a pouch of 50 galleons out of his pocket and passed it to the man. “In compensation for meeting with me today, whether or not you agree to take me on as a client.”

Balderdash accepted the pouch with a wry smile and pocketed it.

“Very smart, Mr. Potter, very smart,” he said and leant back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “By paying me for this meeting, solicitor-client confidentiality magic is in place, so even if I choose not to take you on, I cannot speak of the contents of this meeting. Colour me impressed. So, what is the subject of this meeting?”

Slightly blushing at the praise, Harry recounted the events of the past few days, learning about the truth of his conception and wanting to contact his biological father. Balderdash nodded along the way, his face never giving anything away. Once Harry finished, the solicitor looked away in thought for a few minutes and then asked something that threw Harry off completely.

“Mr. Potter, do you want to get away from the Wizarding World for a few months?”

Harry looked blankly at the older man, “I don’t understand –”

“I think I have come up with an idea that could be beneficial for you, in more than just you meeting your father,” Balderdash interrupted.

“First, let me say that I am disappointed at the disservice our society has done to you,” Balderdash continued, and held up his withered hand in a gesture for silence when Harry was about to dismiss the topic. “Hear me out for a moment, Mr. Potter. I have been on this Earth for 147 years come December, and never have I seen a figure more used and discarded without regard than yourself.

“I fear that when the ‘hype’ dies down about the war’s end, the tides may turn again, in fear that someone with your power could become another formidable opposition to the Ministry –”

“But I don’t plan to do anything!” Harry interjected, throwing his hands up in frustration. “All I want is to live my life in peace, no fuss or pomp circumstance.” 

“That may be so,” Balderdash said with a touch of regret, “but the people of our society are scared sheep, willing to see a wolf where there is none in order meet their purpose. At the moment you have the political capital to challenge the Ministry, and the Ministry does not take challenges well. Your friend Miss Granger is not helping your case by trying to rally supporters for change.”

“I told Hermione I wanted nothing to do with politics,” Harry exasperated. “She just won’t listen. But talking about the Ministry, do I really have much to worry about? Kingsley – Minister Shaklebolt told me I had nothing to worry about.”

“Mr. Potter, do you know how many Ministers I have seen in my lifetime?” Balderdash asked. “Too many to count. Sometimes they stay on for years, other times for months, and one time it was mere days before the dunderhead was sacked. The point is this: political winds change – and quickly. Just because this administration, such as it is, promised you freedom, another may want to try you for war crimes as you acted outside of Ministry control. I have an idea that can help you.”

“And this has to do with my father, sir?” Harry asked, slightly dazed by the warning he received from the man.

“Yes,” Balderdash affirmed.  “What do you know about American Magical Society?”

When Harry revealed he knew nothing, Balderdash explained that in America it was much different. The American Magical Government was completely separate from the United States Federal Government, having signed an ironclad treaty with the muggles during the revolution that on the founding of the nation that magical society would be an independent entity - the magicals had used the Salem Witch Trials as a prime example why they could not trust the new nation to treat them fairly. In return, the wizards aided the Americans in helping defeat the British.

As they were independent, the American Magical Government had a completely different reputation than their muggle counterpart these days. Instead of being the ‘policemen’ of the world, they were quite the isolationists. Their culture resisted interference from muggle society or other countries. They rarely dealt with other countries unless it came to trade and domestically had a very limited government. They had firm laws protecting the individual from the government’s intrusion into their lives.

“Given your father is American,” Balderdash continued, “you can apply for dual citizenship. This way, you would be protected should the Ministry change its mind, as it is wont to do. Now, there are several ways of going about this.

“Option one, you would not even need to contact your father for. You just apply for citizenship based off the evidence you have and the Department of Magical Immigration will investigate the matter.  The downside is that this can take years because he is a muggle, and thus they would have to coordinate with the muggle government which they are not fond of doing, and just plain government bureaucracy.

“Option two, you meet the man and at the very least he acknowledges you as his son. This would speed up the process, as there would be no muggle cooperation needed. It could still take more than a year – again, bureaucracy.

“Option three, you meet the man and he declares you his son and adopts or takes custody of you as a minor. This would expedite the process, as it would be a matter of simple paperwork and verification, no investigation needed. It shouldn’t take more than three months.

“What do you think of these options, Harry?”

Harry contemplated the options and noticed one flaw.

“In option three, you stated that he would need to adopt me as a minor,” Harry pointed out. “I am of age, so wouldn’t that be out of the question, sir?”

“Intelligent question, Mr. Potter,” Balderdash replied. “The thing is, in America, the age of majority is eighteen. So, if we moved quickly, we could potentially see that one through.”

“At the moment, it seems that option three is the best route for me to both meet him and gain citizenship, quickly,” Harry said, after a moment thinking.

“Then that is the option we will pursue,” Balderdash replied, summoning a self-writing quill to start making a list of things that needed to be done.

“Does this mean you will take me as a client?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” the solicitor agreed and waved his wand, a contract forming. He passed the parchment to Harry. “This is my standard contract. 500 Galleon yearly retainer fee and 50 Galleons per hour. I will advise you in legal and technical matters, but I will always follow your direction unless it involves breaking the law. Only with your permission or upon your death am I allowed to speak of you and the work I do for you.”

Harry read the contract carefully, and it stated just as he said, no loopholes or extra clauses. Also, from his crash course from Draco last night, those fees were fair for the caliber of work Barnaby Balderdash was known for.

Harry picked up his quill and signed the parchment. It immediately rolled up and disappeared.

“This will be so exciting!” Balderdash said, and his eyes began to twinkle. For a moment he looked youthful, maybe 90 years old instead of 147. “Oh I haven’t done something like this in years! You see, before the first war I did this often enough, connecting people who had been blood-adopted to their biological families. Don’t look so surprised, Mr. Potter,” he said as he saw Harry’s flash of surprise. “Many of the old families have trouble with fertility, and the ritual was one way to ensure the transference of family magicks even if they weren’t of the same blood. During the war, it was banned as dark magic, because it involved blood magic, so I haven’t seen a case in almost three decades. But I digress.”

Balderdash calmed down and studied the list carefully.

“I will speak with my contacts in New York about drawing up citizenship papers,” the solicitor said after a moment. “The only thing that we both need to do is come up with a story for you that separates you from Harry Potter – ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ –and a custody contract for you and your father.”

“What do you mean by a custody contract?” Harry asked, bewildered. Draco had not mentioned this.

“Well, you don’t have to, but I would advise you provide your father with an adoption contract,” Balderdash replied bluntly. “Think of it as a muggle pre-nuptial agreement: if he were to adopt you, he would have no obligation of making you his heir; and it would go the other way where he as your guardian would not have access to your monetary and physical assets without your permission. This way you are both protected. Also, it could do well, psychologically speaking, in your favour. From his reputation, I assume Mr. Stark has paternity suits constantly from gold diggers, so it would give you more credibility that you are not asking for his money.”

“You know of him, sir?” Harry asked quickly, and then blushed. Merlin, he sounded desperate.

“My mother was muggle, Mr. Potter,” Balderdash replied and smiled. “I still keep in contact with that part of my heritage, and you would have to live under a rock to not know about Ironman. But, back to business, there is one thing I want to make sure you understand.”

Balderdash hesitated and suddenly looked his 147 years.

“I must prepare you for the possibility that your father does not accept you,” he said, rubbing his hands. “It is no matter with the claim for citizenship, as I said, we could still go on without his aide, though it will take more time. You could even live in the United States as the process takes place as a resident alien – But, emotionally, Harry – you need to be prepared for this potential outcome. There is no telling how he will respond. You will be disrupting his world with this information.”

Harry was silent, thinking rapidly. He had been so wrapped up on whether he should contact and potentially accept his father; it truly had not crossed his mind that his father could reject him. As he thought, he felt righteous anger well up within him.

Screw Tony Stark. If his father did not want to meet him, then Harry would go about it his own way. He had fought in a war and won: he could track down the bastard and at the very least give him a piece of his mind. He nodded to himself and sat up straight in his chair.

“Yes, I am prepared to move forward,” Harry said finally. “He disrupted my world. He deserves a bit of disruption in his.”

~Time Skip~

After Balderdash left, Harry sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. They had created a plan for Harry contacting Tony. In the next few days, Balderdash would make the arrangements, and by the end of the week Harry would be in America. Balderdash’s grandson would come with Harry to America and approach Tony as Harry’s lawyer. Balderdash insisted on being cautious and not revealing magic to the muggle immediately, which Harry had no problem with. As such, certain things had to be taken care of.

Harry’s muggle records were abysmal, and any man with the amount of wealth as Tony Stark would insist on a background check. It would be highly suspicious that his schooling stopped at 11. Consequently, they created a new identity based on the identity his mother had assumed undercover at the Stark Expo. He was Harrison John Patterson whose mother and stepfather had died in a gas explosion that Harry survived when he was a year old. He was sent to live with his relatives who were killed recently in a car accident while he was in a private boarding school for the arts in Edinburgh. As Harry was a minor, he needed someone to take custody of him until his eighteenth birthday or else he would be a ward of the state. When the solicitors were searching through past documents, they saw that John Patterson had adopted him, and with investigation determined Tony Stark was the father. All of these records would be created within the next few days and the school would be notified that someone in witness protection would be claiming to have attended that school and to make sure if they were contacted to confirm it. On the whole, unless someone physically checked everything out, which was highly unlikely, his new identity was ironclad.

Everything was moving so fast. A week ago, he was Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter; now he knew the truth and would be attempting to meet his birth father Tony Stark by the end of the week. He felt a headache coming on.

“So, what’s the deal then?”

Harry opened his eyes to see Draco walking in and sitting in the chair Balderdash had vacated.

“Don’t pretend you weren’t eavesdropping, Dray, it’s not your style,” Harry said, rolling his eyes but smiling.

“Fine, so I did, but only to make sure you didn’t screw it all up,” Draco grumbled but then turned serious. “I’m glad you’re moving forward. It all sounds fine from my end. You go and meet the guy, see how it goes. Worst comes to worst, you’ll know he knows about you and you can come back here. I’ll come back to help you then, if you need it.”

“Wait – come back? What do you mean?” Harry demanded, leaning forward in his chair.

“Well, you won’t be here anymore will you?” Draco replied, not meeting Harry’s eyes. “I’ll be finding myself a flat. I have enough money from what was left.”

Harry knew that it would still be difficult for the blonde. A large portion of the Malfoy properties and monetary assets were seized by the Ministry for reparations from the family’s involvement in the war.

“Draco, you can stay here,” Harry said.

“I don’t need _charity_ , Potter,” Draco sneered, his cheeks reddening. “I will make do.”

“It’s not charity Draco –” Harry started to insist then stopped at Draco’s stubborn face. He thought quickly and changed strategies. “I need you to stay here to help take care of the house. I was actually going to speak to you about that, if I could employ you to take care of the Potter and Black investments. With all of this going on and me going to America, I need someone to look after things. I looked at the papers Griphook gave me, and I couldn’t make head or tails of it. You’re good at it, a great advisor. Would you do that for me while I’m gone?”

Draco looked skeptical, but eventually he nodded and his shoulders seemed less tense.

“Okay, but I want a 15% commission and the official title of your steward,” Draco said. “And you will still make final decisions – you will not be lazy and shirk your duties, Potter. This is not permanent, I’m only doing this until you return, understand? I have enough to do without holding your hand for the rest of your life.”

Harry smiled and agreed. He then hesitated and brought up another issue that was pressing on his mind.

“As my steward, will you make sure Teddy and Andromeda are doing OK and comfortable?” Harry asked. “I wish everything that I had that I could take Teddy with me, but I couldn’t do that to Andromeda – and I wouldn’t want to bring Teddy into an unknown situation.”

Draco nodded, and Harry let a sigh of relief, but he was still tense. That was one of the things he was most worried about, leaving Teddy behind. He could not help but feel guilty about abandoning his Godson.

“Stop that thinking, Potter,” Draco scowled as if he read Harry’s mind, and then Draco softened. “Harry, you are not abandoning the squirt. You are just taking some time for yourself, and there is nothing wrong with that. Do you think that Teddy would want you to continue as you are? You need to face your demons, Harry. You need to heal, we all do.” Draco’s eyes started to shine, but no tears fell. “Our lives have been filled with hurt, especially the past two years. We need time to rebuild. You just may need to rebuild in New York.”

Harry nodded, not able to speak. Draco cleared his throat.

“Good, now that that is handled, you and I will go over what you should say to everyone about your leaving, review all of the Potter and Black investments, and make it official I am your steward,” Draco said and stood, and Harry followed suit. “The last thing I need is for Weasel and Granger to claim I killed you and took over your accounts.”


	8. Chapter 8

Tony raced over to the Stark Enterprises temporary offices. He wished he could have flown there in his suit, but after the last time he did, Pepper made him promise on the pains of no sex that he would not do that again. Admittedly, the building was not prepared for the landing, and there were still scorch marks in the carpet – but that is getting away from the point. In all his 41 years, he had only felt the terror that was currently pumping through his body a handful of times: when his father died and he realized he was left to guide the Stark 'Empire', when he was captured in Afghanistan, to name a couple. Tony could be –  _something_ to a teenage boy.

No, Tony was always careful. Not one paternity suit had stuck  _for a reason_. This one would have to be the same, right?

But still, doubt gnawed at him.

Lily. His Emerald-Eyed Lily. Tony had many one-night stands in his day, to say the least, but Emerald-Eyed Lily was one of the ones that stood out. When he first saw her beauty, he immediately wanted to have her. He had never before or since seen eyes so stunning. All Tony could imagine was her auburn hair spread out on white satin sheets, her emerald eyes filled with desire as she gazed up at him. So, he approached her. Although she had been a bit star-struck at meeting him – even at 24 he was considered a ladies' mac – she seemed more enamored with his inventions, the creations of his mind, rather than his fame and wealth. It was refreshing. That was why he stuck around having discussions with her after she insisted she was married and unavailable. He did not stop flirting – it is second nature to him, after all – calling her his Emerald-Eyed Lily, but he had no intent of pursuing her further.

Then the woman surprised Tony: Lily kissed him.

Passion consumed him like a wildfire, and he could not resist her and brought her upstairs. They had only closed the door when Tony took her right there, with her back to the door as he held her legs up. The two had barely moved their clothes enough before he was in her. Tony had barely lasted five minutes with the way Lily moaned and clawed at him. After, they moved it to the bedroom –

Shit.

Tony stopped short in the street, and an old woman ran into the back of him. She cursed at him, but he could barely hear anything outside let alone her profanity.

He had not been careful. Yes, he ended up using a condom in the bedroom, but that first time... shit.

Tony started walking again, his pace quicker.

When he arrived in the building, he ignored all the surprised stares he received from his employees at his actually being at the company, and he went straight for the elevator. There was a young woman already in there, and Tony tried to calm himself and forced out a charming smile. She blushed and averted her eyes. He smiled to himself: good, so he must be hiding his emotions well enough. After the woman exited at the third floor, Tony continued to breathe and calm his anxiety. As he got off the elevator on the top floor, he had more control. He was Tony Stark, the Iron Man. He could handle anything.

Tony entered Pepper's office and took in the scene before him. To the outside world, she projected an air of confidence; yet, because he knew her so well, he could see in the wrinkle between her eyes and the little crease off the corner of her lips that she was a mixture of concerned and pissed off. Great.

The man who sat across from her could have been his father's age. He wore a business suit that he would imagine a man in the 1950's wearing and even had a fedora. Tony briefly cursed the hipsters: fedoras were cool, but they had to go and ruin it by being  _ironic_.

Pepper caught his attention and stood, prompting the lawyer to stand as well.

"What's going on, Ms. Potts?" Tony asked and closed the door behind him.

"Mr. Stark, this is the gentleman I spoke to you about over the phone, Mr. –"

"Barnaby Balderdash, Mr. Stark," the old man, Balderdash said with a British accent, smiling as he extended his hand.

"For real?" Tony asked, surprised at the weird name but shaking the other man's hand all the same. Pepper tutted.

"It's actually Barnaby Balderdash III, a family name," he responded with a wry smile.

"Let's sit around the table here to discuss the issue," Pepper said, gesturing to the round table to the side of the office. They all sat down, and then Balderdash began to speak.

"As I already spoke with your CEO, she probably let you know what the nature of this meeting is –"

"Yes, why did you contact the CEO of a million-dollar company instead of me directly," Tony interrupted, an eyebrow going up.

"You are a hard man to contact directly, Mr. Stark," Balderdash replied, his good-natured expression unchanging.

"If you really wanted my attention, why didn't you just sue me – the media, if not the lawyers, would have grabbed my attention," Tony countered.

"Yes, but that would defeat the purpose of being discreet," Balderdash pointed out. "So we decided it would be best to contact your right-hand man or rather woman in this case."

"Discreet?" Tony scoffed. He hated discreet. "Why so you can blackmail me?"

"No," the lawyer responded firmly. "We want to be discreet – and continue to be discreet – because the last thing we want is a media frenzy."

This surprised Tony. Pepper responded for the both of them.

"If –  _If_ our allegation is true, then there would be a media frenzy," Pepper stated logically. "So why stir up the pot at all?"

"To answer your first observation, we are aware of this, and we hoped that you would decide to hold back on releasing this information until he settled in," Balderdash replied, steepling his fingers and a sadness sweeping over his face. "And we are making contact, because the boy needs family to take custody of him."

"What about Lily?" Tony asked, although he had an idea to the answer, his stomach churning.

"Lily and John Patterson were killed in a gas explosion over fifteen years ago," the lawyer stated gravely. "Harrison was a year old. His maternal aunt and her husband took him in; however, they died last week in a car accident. He still has three months before he is a legal adult, and he needs a family member to take custody of him."

Lily was gone. She had been gone for fifteen years.

Although it was just one night, Tony still thought about Lily. It ranked in the top ten of the best sex he ever had, which included the three-way with the contortionist and the lion tamer. Aside from the physical side, they had connected intellectually. At times when he was having a dry spell, he had contemplated finding her and seeing if she was single. What always stopped him was the fact that  _she_ had been the one who snuck out on him in the morning. No one had ever done that before. It wounded his pride and kept him from reestablishing a connection. Something dropped in his chest. Now he never could. Even though Tony was more than happy playing house with Pepper and loved her dearly, he still regretted having that door shut on him.

"That is a tragedy," Pepper said diplomatically, breaking Tony from his reverie. "But how did you go from there to making a significant accusation of paternity?"

"When his relatives passed, we began searching for relatives to take him in," Balderdash answered, and he began to go through his briefcase. "We discovered that Harrison had been adopted by John Patterson two years into the marriage – but not adopted by Lily. Upon further investigation, we discovered some journals from Lily that confirmed her affair with Mr. Stark and subsequent pregnancy." He pulled out copies of the documents of Harry's adoption and a photograph of Harry and then handed them to Tony. "We will agree to a DNA test confirm, but you have to admit, Mr. Stark, there is a striking resemblance."

Tony accepted the documents but immediately passed them on to Pepper. He could not take his eyes off the photograph: he saw himself, younger and smaller, but without a doubt himself. Except for the boy's eyes. The same emeralds he had been fascinated by with Lily were copy and pasted into her son's eyes. His son's eyes.

"God –" Tony choked.

"Tony, let's not get ahead of ourselves–" Pepper insisted, concerned.

"No, Pep – he's mine," Tony gasped, his eyes never leaving the photograph. "I know he's mine. You have the DNA test and background check done for the sake of the company, but he's -  _Harrison_  is mine."

He looked up at Balderdash who held a proud look on his face.

"I'm glad you are accepting, Mr. Stark," Balderdash said. "We were not sure what your reaction would be, which is why my client was advised not to attend this meeting. Harrison does not need any more rejection in his life."

Tony was about to ask just what he meant by that, but Pepper jumped back into the conversation.

"How is it that your client can afford you?" Pepper asked, still suspicious. "I looked you up while we waited for Mr. Stark to arrive, and your firm is quite high-end. Did you take on this case expecting Mr. Stark to pay your bills?"

"My client pays his own bills," Balderdash replied sharply, and Pepper jumped. "My apologies. No, Harrison can more than afford our services, because of his inheritance from the Patterson's. And this was something else I wanted to reassure you, Mr. Stark: he is not seeking your fame or your wealth. He has more than enough money to satisfy him and a small kingdom. To protect both you and him, Harrison has agreed to sign a contract if you do." When he pulled out the contract, he handed it to Pepper since Tony had gone back to staring at the photograph. "Very similar to a pre-nup, it states that the both of you would retain your current funds and assets and are not required to share anything. The only exception would you be providing a home for Harry. If you choose to take custody, we would insist on this being signed."

Pepper reviewed the contract and started to have a heated discussion with Balderdash, but Tony was not paying attention. He had tunnel vision, continuing to only stare at his mini-me, his son.

God, 'son'! Tony was still as terrified of the idea as he was before he  _knew_  the boy was his – maybe even more so now – but he did not want to run away from this, from Harrison. He could not run away from his creation.

"I need to meet him," Tony exclaimed, startling Pepper and Balderdash. "I need to meet my son."


	9. Chapter 9

Harry looked at the doors in front of him nervously. Door number one literally would change is life forever. His father was on the other side. His father. His living, breathing father who wanted to meet him. On the other hand, door number two was an exit that would lead Harry away from Tony's makeshift workshop into the bright world where he could be free from confrontation. Door number two was looking pretty snazzy right now.

Harry started to play with the silver charm bracelet on his wrist. Before leaving Britain, Balderdash had brought him to a wand maker who specialized in innovative Magick to conceal wands for those wizards who have to venture into the Muggle world. Harry's wand was now an innocuous charm, ready to be called for should it be needed. Harry could even cast weak 'wandless' magic when he had the bracelet on. Fidgeting with the bracelet, stroking the charms, gave him a slight surge of magic, his wand reminding him that, in the new adventure he was to take, he was not unarmed.

The boy felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and looked up to see Barnaby Balderdash III giving him an encouraging smile. Harry tried to smile back, but it turned more into a grimace. He did feel a little better though and took a breath, and he stopped playing with the bracelet. With all his Gryffindor courage, he left Balderdash and entered the door.

The workshop was full of machines and papers. It slightly reminded Harry of Mr. Weasley's shed, except he could tell that the bits and pieces were all fairly expensive. Not seeing anyone, he took a moment to explore the room, being careful not to touch anything but still inspecting what his father was working on. There were pieces of Tony's Iron Man suit that Harry assumed was in the middle of being repaired, but it seemed that most of the main table space was used to layout plans for a building. Harry was about to take a deeper look at the schematics, when he heard a throat clear behind him. He spun around and saw the man he now knew to be his father: Tony Stark.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Hello?" Harry said, his voice nearly cracking.

*HP*HP*HP*

Tony nervously fiddled with some of the tools on one of his work desks. He and Balderdash had decided that the meet-up would take place in Tony's workshop, away from the public eye and intimidating as his penthouse. Also, for Tony, it gave him a small sense of security that he was on his turf. When he went to bed last night, he was content and childless; yet today, one phone call turned his life around. Tony felt so insecure, his confidence shot. Being in a comfortable environment was helping to relieve those feelings.

Harry – his son – would be arriving any minute. Balderdash was fetching him from the hotel he had been stashed away in and would be bringing him to the workshop. The father and son would be meeting alone. Pepper had shot him a look when Tony announced that to Balderdash, but Tony shook his head at her concern. Tony was convinced that Harry was his son. He knew it in his gut – everything added up. Now, Tony wanted to meet him alone, so they could interact to each other without an audience.

"Sir, a Mr. Barnaby Balderdash III and Mr. Harrison Patterson have arrived on the floor," JARVIS announced.

Tony took a breath to calm his frayed nerves. He stood in the corner of the room and waited. Minutes passed, and Tony began to fidget with his phone, for nothing else but to keep his hands occupied. What was taking the boy so long? What if he decided he actually did not want to meet Tony? What if it was just a lark? What if he left? What if –

The door opened slowly, and through the entrance appeared a young man.

He was exactly as pictured, messy black hair, glasses, and a strong jaw: basically a bespectacled, younger Tony. Tony did frown at the shortness of his son. It was odd – Tony was tall and so was Lily before her death. The man decided to file it away for later investigation.

The boy began to explore the room, and Tony felt it was time to reveal himself. Standing up straight and bringing his cocksure self to the fore, he cleared his throat.

Tony smirked as Harry spun around and was about to say something witty, but then father and son locked eyes, and Tony froze.

Those emerald eyes.

Tony's breath was taken away as it hit him. This was his son, his flesh and blood, his mini-me with Emerald-Eyed Lily's dashing emerald eyes.

They stared at each other until Harry broke the silence.

"Hello?"

Tony broke from his spell and smiled to the boy who seemed so unsure, so lost.

"Hello."


	10. Chapter 10

_Previously:_

_They stared at each other until Harry broke the silence._

_"Hello?"_

_Tony broke from his spell and smiled to the boy who seemed so unsure, so lost._

_"Hello."_

Chapter 10

"So," Tony stated, not sure of what to say. He caught sight of the building plans Harry had been glancing at. "So, are you interested in the schematics of the new Tower? Balderdash said you went to an art school. Is that what you like? Architecture?"

"Um – it – it's nice and all," Harry panicked for a moment, and then remembered his cover story, "but – er – no. Architecture isn't my – what I focus on. Too much numbers, um – Maths and science aren't really my thing. I like to dance – I mean, that is my focus. Dancing."

"Oh," Tony replied, a bit shell-shocked. His son: math and science  _not his thing_? Dancing?

"But, um, it does look nice," Harry stammered after receiving no further response. "I – I heard about the Battle of New York. So this building will replace the older one?"

"Yes," Tony answered, relieved he was back on a topic he was comfortable with. "But it will be much better – I've been adding new space for the other Avengers, so it can be our home base as well as Stark Industries HQ. You'll need to let me know what you would like for your rooms, too."

"My – rooms?" Harry said, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Yes of course 'your rooms' – where would you sleep, in the pantry?" Tony exclaimed. He then realized he might have skipped ahead a bit and gestured for Harry to sit on the bench in front of them. They both took a seat. "Look, Harrison –"

"Harry," the teen interjected.

"Harry," Tony continued. "I knew from the moment I saw your picture you were my son – my blood, my responsibility to take care of –"

"I don't need to be anyone's responsibility – or burden!" Harry snapped. "I'll be eighteen soon enough. I just need a place to stay until then. You don't have to rearrange anything or pay any expense, especially on your  _bastard_   _mistake_  with a married woman –"

"Whoa – whoa – whoa now!" Tony interrupted, holding his hands up. God, not even a minute in, and he screwed up. "Calm down, OK?"

Harry calmed immediately and his cheeks reddened. Why did he do that? The teenager fought with himself. The little boy within him had welcomed the acceptance his father was obviously offering him – but the jaded bit of him had latched onto that word 'responsibility' and had lashed out like a basilisk, spewing venomous vitriol at the man. Harry turned away, not able to meet Tony in the eye.

"OK, so obviously, we need to talk some things through," Tony said once it was clear that Harry was finished. The man loved to talk – talking was his strong suit, except when it came to serious things. Dealing with a teenage son who had some anger issues definitely ranked as serious. "Maybe responsibility was the wrong word – actually, maybe I just went about this the wrong way. Let me start over.

"I only knew Lily for a short amount of time," Tony started. Harry snorted in contempt, but Tony chose to ignore it. "But I want you to know that I remember her fondly. I was struck not just by her beauty but her intelligence and wit as well. And that was why I continued speaking with her after she blew off my come-ons, and why I agreed to be with her for that one night. I was entranced. I have still thought about her from time to time, wondering if I should try to find her, to see if she was single and maybe we could rekindle that spark. She left quite an impression.

"That is why I remembered instantly who 'Emerald-Eyed Lily' was when Balderdash contacted my office. She was the one who got away.

"I – I never regretted our – our tryst – even more so now. I have you.

"When I saw your picture, Harry, I knew you were mine. I honestly have never wanted – children. But seeing you –" Tony choked up with emotion that came out of nowhere, and Harry's eyes locked with his, "At that moment, I wished I had been there to see you grow up – that I had been there to father you. I missed so much – too much. We know nothing about each other, yes, but I want to get to know you. I hope that you coming today means you want to get to know me too."

"I do," Harry replied softly, looking away. "I just –" but he could not continue. It was too good to be true.

"Don't worry," Tony said, and cleared his voice and blinked away his wet eyes. "We both will have a lot to learn. I have no idea how to be a – dad. But I'm willing to try. Hey!" Harry looked back up sharply at his father's exclamation. "How about this? Give me three months to try to be a good dad, a kind of probationary thing. If at the end when you turn eighteen you think I don't measure up, well, fair enough, and you can leave, and I will never bother you again – no strings attached. Until then I will try to take care of you and rearrange things and pay expenses  _like any father should_ , and you try to give me the benefit of the doubt when I stick my foot in it. What do you say? A trial run at this father-son thing?"

"What about me?" Harry asked. "What if at the end you decide you  _don't_  want me as your son?"

"That won't happen, Harry," Tony replied easily, and waved away Harry's attempt at a further reply. "We may not get along, but there is nothing you could do that would make me deny my own blood. That is the first of many things you need to know about Tony Stark."

"How long is this list?" Harry asked, smiling for the first time since he met his father.

"Long – I'm a complicated character full of mystery and suspense," Tony joked, happy to see that smile. He knew from that moment on his life's goal would be to make that smile permanent on his son's face. "So? What do you say?"

"OK," Harry replied, feeling butterflies fluttering in his stomach. His father wanted him – but Harry could not shake the feeling that this would not last, especially with all the lies and half-truths he had fed the man. He could only hope that the his father was in earnest when he said that he would never deny blood, no matter the blood on his son's hands.


	11. Chapter 11

Twenty minutes later, Harry found himself entranced by New York City. They were in Tony's town car, and Harry could not help but be glued to the window as he took in the city around him. It was bustling with many people and grand buildings, although he was somewhat used to that from his time in London. Yet, it was the amount of colour that mesmerized him. London was a bit too gray for his liking.

Tony in turn could not take his eyes off his son. He was used to New York and its summertime feel, but seeing Harry be so taken in with it made Tony feel a bit of pride in his city. Also Tony noticed that the teenager looked so boy-like in his fascination. It made the man ache with regret that he was not there to see the boy grow up.

Both father and son were taken out of their reverie with the sound of someone clearing their throat. They both looked up at the driver.

"So, boss, who's the mini-me?" Happy Hogan, Tony's chauffeur asked. The driver had held his tongue for ten minutes before he could no longer resist asking. Pepper had told him nothing but that Tony and a guest would need to be driven from the interim Stark Enterprises to the penthouse. She was quite clipped over the phone, and Happy wondered if the mystery guest was another woman. He was half hoping it was so, as he had long had feelings for Pepper, but at the same time he did not want her to be hurt by such flagrant cheating. In the end, he had been surprised to see his boss and a shorter body double enter the limo.

"Oh – sorry, Happy!" Tony exclaimed. "Happy, meet Harry Patterson, my son. Harry, meet Happy Hogan, the best chauffeur in the country!"

To his credit, Happy did not react wildly to that bomb that his boss dropped. All he said was, "Oh. Well, nice to meet you Mr. Patterson."

"Nice to meet you, um, Mr. Hogan" Harry responded, a bit unsure, and was relieved that Tony began to speak so he did not have to.

"'Oh'?" Tony repeated, unbelievingly. "Is that all you have to say 'Oh'? No questions of how he came into being, who his mother was, how we met, yadda, yadda, yadda – just 'Oh'?"

"Well, it's none of my business is it?" Happy said, smiling as he glanced in the rearview mirror. His smile broadened as he saw Harry smile at the driver's nonchalance and Tony's father's sputterings. He glanced back at the road.

"Fair enough, I guess," Tony replied, still eying Happy warily. Harry interrupted his reverie.

"So, er, who else am I going to meet?" Harry asked. As Tony turned to look at him, he began to feel self-conscious. "Um, I just want to know, so, I can be prepared."

"Right," Tony said, and began to count off using his fingers. "Well, there is Pepper, JARVIS, Bruce, Rhodey, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Thor, Agent –"

"Whoa – that's a lot of people!" Harry exclaimed, his anxiety rising.

"Oh, well, not all at once," Tony said quickly, realizing his mouth had moved a few steps faster than his brain. "No, when we arrive back at the penthouse, you'll meet Pepper, JARVIS, and Bruce. The others are the other Avengers I want to introduce you to, but not today – or maybe even in weeks. Natasha and Clint are all on a mission for SHIELD with Agent, Thor is back at home dealing with his brother, Steve is getting some training in D.C. about modern life, etc., and Rhodey is off doing his boring day job."

"O-kay," Harry replied, and before he could ask what all of that meant, Happy had announced they had arrived at the penthouse. The man got out of the car and held the door open for Harry and Tony to exit.

Harry got out first and stopped short at the magnificent building in front of him. It was the largest building he had ever seen. He only moved forward when Tony nudged him.

"Ready to see home, Harry?" Tony smiled. Harry returned the smile, and they entered the building with a "Hello, Mr. Stark" from the doorman.

*HP*HP*HP*

When they entered the lift, Tony put a key into the penthouse suite button and turned it. At Harry's questioning look, Tony explained that it was a security measure so only he and those he gives the key to can reach the penthouse suite he was staying in. On the ride up, the man lamented how he wanted to install his own tech into the lift but the hotel would not allow it, stating legal reasons, blah, blah, blah. But, it did not stop him from 'tricking out' the suite itself.

When the doors finally opened, a ginger-haired woman who was flipping through items on an electronic tablet greeted them. She did not look up as they entered the penthouse, and Tony could tell from her stance and the crinkle at the corner of her lips that she was pissed. Again. Trying to act as if nothing was wrong, he began introductions.

"Harry, let me introduce you to Ms. Pepper Potts, the CEO of Stark Industries, my personal assistant, and my g-"

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Patterson," Pepper interrupted and nodded at Harry. Before Harry could respond in kind, she continued. "Mr. Stark, the room has been set up as requested, and there are items you need to look over as soon as possible," and turned on her heel and walked down the hall to an office.

Tony stood there a bit gob smacked. Pepper was  _pissed_. He turned to Harry who had a furrowed brow and a small bit of a scowl on his face. Great. Just... great.

"Harry why don't you have a look around the penthouse?" Tony said, still trying to act as if nothing happened. "You can enter any unlocked room." At Harry's nod, he quickly ran after Pepper.

Tony found Pepper in the office. She was already sitting down behind the desk, with two stacks of papers in front of her. Only when he slinked into one of the chairs in front of her, feeling like a schoolboy about to get in trouble from the headmistress, did she look up and meet his eyes.

"We need to talk, Tony."

*HP*HP*HP*

Harry frowned as he watched his father follow Ms. Potts. He was sure Draco said that she and his father were dating; yet she was being a complete bitch. She reminded him of Ginny when she was upset, ice-cold with fire burning underneath. Obviously, she was at the very least unwelcoming to Harry and at the most hated him. Why though? Was it because she was jealous that Tony would be spending time with him instead of her? All he knew of, well, 'stepmothers' was from faerie tales. Maybe there was some truth in those tales.

Harry was lost in thought as he half-heartedly explored the flat. If Harry was being honest with himself, he also hated the likeness she had to his mother. Were they just a 'type' that his father enjoyed? Tony had said that he was attracted to more than just his mother's looks, but he could not stop the feeling that Ms. Potts was just the newest model in a long line of redheads including his mother.

When Tony had sat with him on the bench and made the deal with Harry, the teenager had taken it to heart. He did want to get to know his father, and maybe after his birthday, they would still be in each other's lives: be a family. This replacement redhead was not going to mess with his chance at a family. Harry scowled at the thought and determined that if the woman was going to be a bitch and try and turn his father against him, then he could bitch right back.

He was just petty enough to stoop to conquer.(1)

*HP*HP*HP*

"Look, Pepper –" Tony started, white-knuckling the arms of the chair. He could see where this was going.

"No, Tony," Pepper interrupted. She turned her head away from him, though Tony could still see the tears starting to form in her eyes. "Tony, I cannot see you romantically anymore. I will continue as the CEO and will organize your schedule, but I cannot do this anymore."

"Pep – why?" Tony asked pathetically. "Because I have a kid now?"

"No, it's because you do things without thinking!" she snapped, her watery eyes captured Tony's again. "That kid may very well be yours, but you should do more background! Do the DNA test before you whisk him away and play happy daddy. Why do you even think you can provide for a child? For a teenager? God, you can barely take care of yourself!"

"I don't need a DNA test to know for sure, I just know!" Tony bellowed back. "I'm all he has – you heard Balderdash, he would be put into the system otherwise!"

"You just trust everything at Balderdash's word and didn't even listen to my very real concerns on this!" Pepper cried. "Something is not right about this Tony, I can feel it in my gut, they are hiding something big, and in the end, I will hate to be the one to tell you 'I told you so' when this blows up in your face."

"So this is all because you didn't like the fact I didn't listen to you?" Tony questioned, still struggling to understand why she was leaving.

"Yes!" Pepper snapped. She stood quickly and picked up a carry-on case. "I want a partner in life, who cares enough to include me in his plans. You are just reckless Tony, with your life and with your heart! You nearly died when you brought that nuke into space, never thinking that there was a better option or that someone else could do it. You had no consideration what your death would mean to me! I tried to move past it, because you did it for the greater good, but this is the last straw. You are going to get invested with that kid and give your heart to him only for you to be heartbroken in the end. I just know it! And, I can't put myself through that with you, Tony, I just can't."

She started crying in full, and Tony could tell she was the one who was heartbroken for her decision. Tony knew their relationship had changed since the battle, with Pepper pulling away from him. He also knew there was nothing he could say that would change her mind: she was stubborn just like he was. So instead, he stood and took her in his arms. She resisted at first, but then leaned into him. Tony kissed her forehead, his eyes wet as well.

"Pepper, I do lo-"

"Don't Tony," Pepper interrupted and sniffed. She pulled away from him and wiped her eyes with a tissue. "Please, just don't."

They both stared at their feet for a moment.

"The two stacks of paper on the desk are papers for you to sign," Pepper said quietly. "The ones on your left are for the New York office. It includes the contract Balderdash and our lawyers negotiated on. You can send them in the morning to the office. The ones on the left are for the Malibu office to do with those parts you wanted for the new suit. If you can sign those now, I will take them on my flight that leaves in an hour."

Not able to speak, Tony nodded, and took a pen and signed all that needed to be signed.

"I'll be in Malibu until after the board meeting in two weeks," she continued as she took the papers and put them in her suitcase. "When I return, I will have an apartment you can send my things to. I have the essentials now."

"Should I make plans for you to have rooms in the new tower?" Tony asked quietly.

All Pepper did was shake her head, take her case, and leave the room.

*HP*HP*HP*

Harry was shaken out of his reverie by a voice from behind him.

"Hello, Harry."

The boy whipped around and found himself face to face with a large man with wire-rimmed glasses. Realizing he had startled the boy, the man put his hands up, palms toward Harry with a gesture of meaning no harm.

"Sorry to startle you," the man said apologetically. "I just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Bruce Banner. I work with your father and currently live here as well." He held out his hand.

Harry took it, and they shook hands.

"I'm Harry P-Patterson," Harry replied, and then felt silly. "But you knew that already, since you called me by name."

"Well, yes," Mr. Banner chuckled. "Pepper told me you were coming when I saw her having your room set up. It is still nice to have a formal introduction."

"My room?" Harry replied, and looked around. In his daydreaming, he had not actually searched for his room. "Do you think you could show it to me?"

Mr. Banner nodded and pointed to a room behind Harry to the left.

"That one is yours," the man said, and then started pointing other ones. "The one next to it is your father's, and the one across from it is mine. They are soundproof, which is nice if the other guy makes his appearance."

"Who's the other guy?" Harry asked, wanting to know about all the people he would be living with.

"How much has your father told you?" Mr. Banner said, concerned. For a moment, the man reminded him of Remus, though he was not sure why. It made his heart ache a little. The man continued, "Where is he, by the way? I would've thought he would be showing you around."

"Ms. Potts said there was something urgent he needed to go over," Harry scowled. "And, he really hasn't told me too much. Is the other guy Jarvis? He said that I would be meeting you, Ms. Potts, and Jarvis when we arrived here."

Before Mr. Banner could reply, a voice sounded from above Harry.

"Hello, Master Harry, I am JARVIS, Master Stark's AI," JARVIS said, and Harry's head nearly went a complete circle trying to find the source of the voice, much to Mr. Banner's amusement.

"What – what is AI?" Harry asked.

"Artificial Intelligence, sir," JARVIS replied. "Master Stark created me as his home computing system."

"O-kay," Harry drawled and looked to Mr. Banner who was still smiling at him.

"Don't worry, Harry, it does take some getting used to," Mr. Banner said.

At that moment, they both saw Tony turn the corner. To Harry, his father looked upset, and Harry was both concerned and felt emotion burn within him. He knew that Ms. Potts would do something hurtful. As soon as Tony caught sight of them, the man's countenance changed, a smile now plastered on his face, though it did not meet his eyes.

"Ah, fantastic!" he exclaimed. "You're both here! Harry, this is Dr. Bruce Banner, scientist by day, green rage monster by night!"

"Tony!" Bruce yelled, and glanced with concern at Harry. "That is not how I like to be introduced, and you know it."

"Just can't help myself, Bruce," Tony smirked, and Harry could tell it was real this time.

Dr. Banner turned fully to Harry, with his brow furrowed.

"If you do not feel comfortable with me living here, Harry, I understand –" Bruce said, but Tony cut him off.

"Don't be silly, Bruce, you've been fine and had the other guy under control for the entire time you've been here," Tony said, trying to placate the man. He just lost Pepper from his personal life – he could not lose his science bro, too!

"No, it should be up to Harry, Tony," Bruce replied. "This is his home now too, and –"

"It's fine!" Harry interrupted. He liked Dr. Banner and wanted to get to him better. It did not help that he continued to remind Harry of Remus. This would be exactly how the werewolf would have been a similar situation, fearing being rejected because he turned into a 'monster'. Harry could not reject him. Though he felt a little self-conscious, again, when both pairs of eyes turned to him, he continued. "Well, I don't know that much about what happens to you Dr. Banner, but if – if my father trusts you, then I do, too."

Harry knew it was the right thing to say when Tony beamed at him. He felt warm inside. Dr. Banner still shook his head, but Tony clapped him on the shoulder with a smile.

"Look, Bruce, I get it," Tony said with a bit of a perk in his voice. "I'll chat with Harry so he does know 'about what happens to you' and if he has an issue he will say so, right Harry?" Harry nodded, and Tony continued. "But if he has no issue, then you will not try to leave again using worry about what his reaction. Capisce?"

Dr. Banner sighed and nodded slowly, and then turned to Harry.

"It was nice to meet you, Harry," Dr. Banner said, and then told Tony, "I'll be in my room meditating if you need me," and left the two and entered his room.

Both father and son turned back to face one another.

"So, have you seen your room?" Tony asked, smiling. Harry shook his head, and Tony's smile widened. "Great! Then I can show you!" Tony strode to the door and opened it with a bow. "Your room, monsieur!"

Harry could not keep a chuckle from escaping at his father's dramatics and entered the room.

(1)  _She Stoops to Conquer_  is a fantastic eighteenth-century play by Oliver Goldsmith about a wealthy woman who stoops to pretending to be a barmaid in order to get her man. The way I use the phrase is not a reflection of the original meaning behind the phrase – I just liked the phrase ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) She Stoops to Conquer is a fantastic eighteenth-century play by Oliver Goldsmith about a wealthy woman who stoops to pretending to be a barmaid in order to get her man. The way I use the phrase is not a reflection of the original meaning behind the phrase – I just liked the phrase ;)
> 
> AN: Hope you enjoyed! As you can see this will no longer be a Tony/Pepper story. But don't worry! Tony will eventually find love (and not with Loki, because I know you guys may try to guess in the comments).
> 
> I have a fanfic.net account and a tumblr (where I also crosspost) and a twitter account (where I post updates and things going on in my writing).You can follow, reblog, tweet at me, favorite, alert, or whatever you like. If anyone has fanart (I know one of you does), not only would I love to see it, but I would be more than happy to reblog it so everyone else can too.
> 
> Again, thanks for reading! See you next time when Harry learns of his father's superhero life and Harry calls Draco to see what has been going on back a home. Love, Insie.


	12. Chapter 12

_Previously_

_"So, have you seen your room?" Tony asked, smiling. Harry shook his head, and Tony's smile widened. "Great! Then I can show you!" Tony strode to the door and opened it with a bow. "Your room, monsieur!"_

_Harry could not keep a chuckle from escaping at his father's dramatics and entered the room._

Chapter 12

He stopped laughing when he viewed the room. It was spacious – three times as big as the Dursley's master bedroom. There was a California king-sized bed (1) with hunter green duvet and sheets centered at the back wall. The wall to the left of the door had a desk with laptop on it, and right next to it was an empty bookshelf. To his right was a large plasma television with a leather sofa set staged in front and a door near the window Harry assumed was to an ensuite and/or closet. But what caused Harry to stop in his tracks was the window: it ran the entire length of the wall and gave a view of Central Park at sunset

Harry found it breathtaking.

"Is it OK?" Harry heard an unsure voice behind him. It brought him back to the present. The boy turned to his father as the man continued. "I know it's not very personal – we converted it from an office – but I figured you could decide how to decorate the details. If you don't like something, we can change –"

"No," Harry interrupted and smiled at Tony. "It's fantastic. I just – I can't believe the view!"

"I'll have to take you on a proper tour of New York," Tony said, trying to hide his relief that Harry liked the room. After he had arranged with Balderdash to meet Harry in the afternoon, he had his rarely used office converted into room for Harry. The room was originally a bedroom, but since the rest of the Avengers, excluding Bruce, declined the offer of rooming with him, they had converted it into a home office for him. Not that he used it: he usually just went to his workshop across town. Pepper would gripe at him about – Tony stopped that thought. Pepper.

Tony was still in shock. Pepper left. It was completely unexpected, and he still could not completely understand her reasoning. Although his heart ached, he could not help but a feel like laughing. In one day he lost a girlfriend and gained a son: just an average day in the life of Tony Stark.

He shook his head and looked back at his son who was still entranced by New York dusk. Tony needed to focus on the here and now. He would think about Pepper later.

"So, Harry, how about we get dinner?" Tony suggested. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Harry nodded, and asked, "While we eat, will you tell me about what Dr. Banner said about 'the other guy' and 'what happens to him'?"

"Sure thing, kiddo," Tony said, and led them out of the room.

*HP*HP*HP*

As Harry looked over the Chinese take-out menu, Tony thought about his son. If he did not know about Bruce's 'other guy', then how much did he know about the rest of the Avengers? How much did he know about Iron Man?

"I think I want the chow mein and orange chicken, please," Harry asked, and handed the menu back to Tony.

"You heard him JARVIS, and I'll have my usual," Tony said as he put the menu in the take-out drawer.

"Right away, sir," JARVIS replied, and Harry again startled in surprise.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to JARVIS," Tony said, smirking slightly. He always loved it when JARVIS caught people off guard.

"So, can you explain to me what exactly JARVIS is?" Harry asked, trying to get down to the bottom of this situation. "He – it – said it was AI and your home computing system. What does that  _mean_?"

"He, JARVIS is a he," Tony replied. "JARVIS was a bit humble – he is so much more than a home computing system. He is connected to all Stark technology, covers security and communication, helps me in my workshop – Basically, I programmed him to do pretty much anything."

"So, my question now," Tony continued. "How much do you know about me and the Avengers?"

Hesitantly, Harry told Tony what he learned after finding out about his father: Tony had been captured and escaped with a type of Iron Man suit, and eventually created updated the suit and started to fight crime, while also changing the focus of the company. He knew little of the Avengers except that they were a team that helped stop the invasion in the Battle of New York.

"Well, that's humbling," Tony mumbled, and before Harry could reply, JARVIS announced: "Sir, your food has arrived."

"Wonderful!" Tony exclaimed and went to the elevator just as it dinged open. The evening manager passed the food over with an impassive look on his face, but Tony knew he was annoyed. The first time he had ordered in food, they had a bellhop bring the food up, and Tony threw a bit of a fit over it. He was not so much a snob that he did not want to come in contact with a bellhop, but he paid good money for the security that came with the penthouse and that meant only management and those he gave keys to should have access. Ever since the Battle of New York, he had felt less secure in his and his own's safety. As he returned to Harry, who was now sitting at the table expectantly, he knew that fear would grow. He could not lose his son.

Tony would be beefing up security: that much he was sure of.

"Do you need me to get out the plates and cutlery?" Harry asked as Tony set the food boxes on the table.

"God, no!" Tony exclaimed as he sat down and passed Harry the boxes with his order and chopsticks. "You are a New Yorker now, and the rule of eating Chinese food in NYC is eating it straight out of the box with chopsticks."

The next five minutes consisted of Tony teaching Harry how to use chopsticks through imitation – he had tried to take Harry's hands and put them in the correct position, but he barely touched him before some static shock seemed to scare the boy who withdrew his hands and began to practice by himself. In the end, that moment was forgotten, when Harry successfully pulled out a piece of chicken and plopped it in his mouth. Tony felt a sense of pride, because, even though it could be seen as insignificant to the wider world, he had taught he son something. He did that.

"So, would you mind telling me about everything with the Avengers?" Harry asked as he dug into his meal. He had never had Chinese food before, and it was so good! Then Harry realized how he had phrased that question and clarified. "Well, I mean, I understand you may not be able to talk about  _everything_. Er, can you tell me what you can?"

The man sat for a moment and thought about how much he should tell his son. Harry was just kid, did he really need to know about all the dangers in the world? Or the universe? Did he need to know all the details about the other Avengers or SHIELD?

Tony thought back to when he was at that age. He hated his father for keeping him in the dark about all of his work – hell, he was in his forties now, and he still was angry that Howard had not told him anything of his work with the Avengers Initiative except for his obsession with finding the Capsicle. Tony had always promised himself he would be better than his father was – here was one way he could be. He would be a damn better father to Harry than Howard was to him – and that meant being open and honest.

Plus, what if one of his enemies targeted Harry? In the whirlwind of the day, Tony had not stopped to think of what his connection with Harry could do to the boy. His son could be used as a weapon against him or be collateral damage of an attack against him. Hell that was why he and Pepper had kept their relationship unofficial in the public, so she could be somewhat protected.

He needed to protect his son. He felt physical pain his chest at the thought of Harry being hurt – or worse. The first line of defense was knowledge – the cliché was true, knowledge is power. If Harry knew what was out there, he would be better able to defend himself. He would tell Harry everything.

"No, you need to know everything Harry, if you are going to live with me and have me in your life," Tony said.

With that decided, Tony began his story. About going to Afghanistan, being captured and almost dying, the arc reactor, coming home and changing course with the company, creating the Iron Man suit, Rhodey, Obi's betrayal, coming out to the world as Iron Man, the Congressional hearing, the palladium core slowly poisoning him, his drunken birthday bash, Fury and SHIELD, his father's work on a new element he was able to synthesize it with JARVIS' help, the expo, Hammer, the battle with the drones, turning a consultant for SHIELD when he was not accepted into the Avenger Initiative, working on renewable energy, creating Stark Tower, Loki and the Tesseract, the different Avengers and their brief histories, becoming one of them, and the Battle of New York.

"So that's it basically - Bruce stays with me, because otherwise he would be in some shit SHIELD containment facility," Tony said, finishing his tale. "I've designed the new tower specifically for all of the Avengers to have rooms and training facilities along with Stark Industries offices and research labs. We'll move in there when it's finished. So," and then Tony felt awkward. His son just had a pensive look on his face and had made no comments throughout his tale. He had no idea what Harry was thinking. "You going to be OK with Bruce now that you know?"

"What?" Harry said, and he mentally shook himself out of his reverie. "Of course it's fine. From what you said, he seems to be gaining control over his two sides. No worries."

"Harry, I may not know you well, but I can see something's wrong," Tony said, and then had a thought. "Are you worried about the danger? Harry, I didn't think about how my life as Iron Man could badly affect you, put you in danger, when I agreed to take you in. I should have, but honestly, I was so excited – I didn't think it through. Are you OK with living with me still? I'm sure we can figure something out if you're not – but just know I will make sure you are the safest you could be –"

"No, no, no!" Harry interjected. "I'm not – I'm not worried about that, honestly. I want to stay. I do, really I do – I just –"

"Yes?" Tony asked, expectantly.

"Um, can I – can I see your arc, uh, device?" Harry asked. When he and his father had briefly touched earlier, there was a spark – the kind of spark that usually developed when he touched something electronic. Luckily, Tony seemed to have thought nothing of it, probably thinking it was just static. Harry was confused, but maybe now he had the answer – he just needed to see it.

Tony nodded and, feeling a bit self-conscious, unbuttoned his shirt so the arc reactor was in full view. The boy put his hand up almost to touch it, but then pulled back quickly, his face flinching. Tony began to worry. Did the device repulse his son? Or the scar? Or was he just concerned? They knew so little of each other, that Tony was left feeling unsure. He hate that feeling.

"So this keeps you alive?" Harry asked. "Does it hurt?"

Tony felt some relief. So the boy was probably more concerned than disgusted.

"Yes, the arc reactor keeps the shrapnel from penetrating my heart, and no it does not hurt," Tony replied, as he buttoned up his shirt. "If it stopped then I would be in trouble –" At Harry's pained look, he quickly added, "not to say that would happen. The one I have now won't poison me and will go on for a long, long time. I have extra ones as well, just in case. And when I am fighting, the suit protects me. So don't worry. It'll take a lot to turn this ticker off."

Harry nodded, then looked down at his half eaten meal. Although it was very good, he had lost his appetite. No matter what Tony said, Harry knew the truth.

His magic could turn 'the ticker off.'

"Um, I'm full, um, do you think I could be excused?" Harry said and pushed away the boxes. "It's been a long day."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Tony said. Now that he thought about, he felt exhausted and checked his watch. Not only had it been an emotional rollercoaster of a day, it was near midnight. It was time for both of them to go to bed. "Don't worry about the food – I'll put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Um, I asked for your bags to be put in the bathroom attached to your room. There is a closet in there as well. If you need anything else though, just let me know. And if you want up at a certain time, then just tell JARVIS. He's the best alarm clock."

Harry stood from the table and nodded, he turned to go to his room, and then turned back.

"Um, thanks," Harry said, uncertainly. "You didn't have to be so – so accepting. I'm glad that we'll get to know each other. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry," Tony said and smiled. "I'm glad we'll get to know each other too."

Tony was glad that after all the angst of today, at the end of it they were on an OK footing. Maybe this time fate threw him a softball instead of the usual curve.

*HP*HP*HP*

Harry collapsed on his bed, which was amazingly soft. He rubbed his head into the pillow and gave out a scream of frustration and then rolled onto his back and just stared at the cream ceiling.

He could never touch his father.

They were lucky that the brief touch had just been a spark. Back at Grimmauld, he never handled any electronic equipment, because whether it was the toaster or a mobile phone, they all short-circuited on him, sometime with flames. Even the television that had been modified to work in a magical environment was not safe from his touch.

Electrical items rarely worked in places like Hogwarts or Grimmauld because of the ambient magic within the building as the result of years housing magical beings and objects. However, there had been some successful work with modifying items to work well within a literally magical atmosphere, hence the television set that Draco was addicted to. Either way, witches and wizards themselves rarely had trouble with electronics crashing because of their magic: rarely being the key word of that statement.

Harry had spoken to Andromeda about it, since she had lived in the Muggle world as an adult, asking why he had issue with it now when, before Hogwarts, he could work with toasters, blinders, telephones, etc., just fine and dandy. She said that she had heard of this happening before.

Although Harry had spells of accidental magic before attending Hogwarts, the magic was not trained. Magic was a muscle that needed attention to grow. Because of his relying on magic so much during his trials and tribulations at Hogwarts and his quest of vanquish Voldemort, he had exercised that muscle constantly. His power had grown used to needing to always be on its guard, at the ready to attack.

She had compared it to when someone has an allergic reaction. The body would attack what it mistaken for a foreign intruder but would only do harm to itself. With always having to defend itself from foreign energy, i.e. spells, curses, and jinxes, it became wary of any energy, the most common being electricity. In the end, his body will either learn that it is not to be feared and let go of that 'protection' or it would be something he would have to live with. Given his luck, Harry was sure it would be the latter, not the former.

A warm sensation in his back pocket took Harry away from those thoughts. He quickly sat up and pulled out a gold compact mirror with a lion's head etched onto it. Upon opening it, instead of his reflection he saw Draco's face.

"Hello, Draco," Harry said, and smiled at his friend who only scowled. Draco did not like the two-way mirrors Harry had created, stating they were too femme for him. Even when Harry made his silver with a dragon, the blonde was unimpressed.

"I still find this communication device degrading," Draco confirmed Harry's thoughts.

"Yet, you still use it," Harry replied. "I'm flattered."

"Whatevs," Draco mumbled and then turned to other matters, "So? I got up at bloody 5:00 AM in the morning to speak with you – don't keep me waiting. Balderdash said that Stark accepted you – so how is it?"

"It's – unreal," Harry said, somewhat lost for words. "It's hard to describe it Dray, he just – he's really, really accepting. We had a few... misunderstandings, but he said he would try so I would too." He then went at length and described his day to Draco. At the end, he brought up his latest concern.

"There was a spark, Dray," Harry said, worryingly. "When he showed me the arc reactor, I put my hand near it, and I could feel my magic try to attack it. I don't know what to do – it keeps him alive, Dray, and I can't be responsible for someone else's death."

"Stop it right there," Draco said sternly. "You are responsible for no one's death. I repeat: no one. And you won't be responsible for his either. For now you can wear your dragonhide gloves, that layer should keep your magic in and the electricity out. But, there must be a way around it. He's a genius right? What if you tell him about magic and he figure out some way around it? Balderdash confirmed with me that after he dropped you off that he turned in the proper forms with the American Magical Government to start your citizenship process and you have the green light now to inform Stark about our world without worrying about the International Statute of Secrecy."

"Really, the forms have gone through?" Harry asked. "What about the contract between me and Tony? He never mentioned it, and I forgot to ask. Oh, and what is going on at home?"

"Well, Balderdash said that he expects to have the signed contract tomorrow, so no worries on that end," Draco answered. "However, as expected, Granger and the Weasel pitched a fit when you left and even went as far to Shacklebolt to accuse me of holding you captive, blah, bah, blah. Didn't work of course. The Minister had received your letter about going on holiday before they arrived at the office, so he sent them on their merry way. I wish I had been there. Oh! Also, the twins dropped by, but only to ask if you were all right."

"Merlin, I forgot to tell them I was leaving!" Harry groaned. "What did you tell them?"

"That you would be," Draco replied. "You needed some time away from everything, and they understood. They also brought some reports on their business – why didn't you tell me about your investment in their joke shop?"

"Oh, that," Harry said. "I had forgotten – it was years ago. I gave them my winnings from the Triwizard Tournament to start up their company. It's no big deal."

"'No big deal'?" Draco repeated with a cry. "You dunderhead, you are an equal partner in a business that will soon outdo Zonko's – and you say 'no big deal'. They just started to turn a profit and wanted to know where to make deposits. Harry, you could live off of your cut, you really could. You need to tell me these things, Merlin's mouldy shorts! It is going to change the way I work your investments!" Draco took a breath to calm himself and then asked, "Is there anything else I need to know about, as your steward?"

"No, none," Harry replied awkwardly. "Sorry, I just didn't think about it. Had a lot on my mind, you know."

"You're excused," Draco sniffed, "but in the future you need to tell me these things."

The blonde then turned a firm eye to Harry. "Now, don't think you entirely evaded my question earlier – when are you going to tell Tony about our world – about you? I understood wanting to have a false story before he accepted you, but he has now.

Surely you don't want to continue like this?"

"Yeah, he's accepted, for now, Dray," Harry replied and sighed. "But he may not once he learns the truth – let me finish!" Harry snapped as he saw Draco open his mouth. "You don't understand! The Dursleys they – they were OK until my first accidental magic. I shared a room with Dudley and had my own crib – I remember that clearly, even though I was so little, because it was such a shock to be thrown in the cupboard, because I made some blocks float to me. I never left the cupboard from then until I was 11, unless it was to do chores, go to school, or use the facilities –"

"So, you think Stark will be like them?" Draco asked in an even tone, with no judgment.

"No – I mean – I don't think so, but," Harry exclaimed as he struggled to relay what he was feeling. "I just want to wait, OK? Maybe, until my birthday." He then grasped onto that idea. "He asked me to give him the benefit of the doubt until then, and then I could decide if I want him to continue to be part of my life. I'll do the same. I'll tell him then, and then he can choose whether he wants me as well, scar and all."

"If you're sure, Harry," Draco said, looking unsure himself. "But I can't help but think this will blow up in your face."

"Yes, I'm sure Draco," Harry replied. "I'll tell him then, on my birthday."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) A Standard King Overall are dimensions: 76" wide x 80" long, while a California King is 72" wide x 84" long.
> 
> AN: Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter, Tony gets to know Harry more and Harry gets to learn more about his father and grandfather's work... and there is an unexpected visitor.
> 
> By the way, I have a new crossover Supernatural/Harry Potter story going on, so check it out. It was prompted by the results of the polls I put up on fanfic.net a while back: a SPN/HP crossover with Harry as Master of Death and the son of Castiel. It's going to be fun! I am writing a different kind of Harry than the one you see here (for one thing he won't be a teenager). Should be posting the second chapter up tomorrow (Monday).
> 
> Again, hope you continue to read, review, and check out my other pages! See you next time. Love, Insie.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hello! So, not as far into the timeline as I wanted in this chapter - no visitor like I promised last chapter - but a lot more depth than I planned, so I like it anyway.
> 
> I love how so many of you were into JARVIS and whether he overheard or not. It is partially answered here, and the rest will be answered at a much later date - but there will be answers, so no worries. I have outlined the trilogy and have flowcharts and everything explaining this universe - so much energy I could have put into my PhD, but oh well. This is more fun anyway ;)
> 
> Please enjoy!

Chapter 13

Tony tried to settle into bed and sleep, but his mind was too restless. Today had been a hell of a day.

_'She's a lady! Whoa! Whoa! She's a lady! Talkin' about the' –_

As fast as he could, Tony reached to his Stark Phone and answered it, "Pep?"

"H-hi, Tony," Pepper replied, her voice hesitant and soft, nothing that Tony was used to.

"Pep –" Tony started, but was interrupted.

"I'm sorry, Tony, for how I acted today," Pepper said, and he could tell she was teary. "I should have said something before this – how I was feeling. So, I'm sorry that all of this just seems out of the blue. You deserved better than me yelling at you and storming out."

"I just – I just don't understand, Pepper," Tony replied and yearned for understanding. "I thought we had a good thing going. I realize we had been – distant lately, but why today? What did I do  _exactly_  that made you leave?"

They remained silent for a moment and all they could hear was each other's breaths.

"I guess, today was just the straw that broke the camel's back," Pepper said, and Tony could tell she was crying now. "Ever since  _New York_ , I – I have seen you in danger and taking risks but never as your girlfriend. Watching you fall from space, Tony. It nearly killed me – you nearly died, and – And I understand, in my head that was the choice you made in a split second and everything turned out fine, but I just can't help but – but  _wish_  you had made a choice that made it where you didn't nearly sacrifice yourself and still saved New York – that you thought of  _me_  – what your death would mean to  _me_  –"

"Pep, I did – I tried to call you –" Tony interjected.

"I know that, Tony," Pepper replied. "I know that intellectually, I already said. But my heart can't change. I cannot stop this voice in my head that tells me the next time you go out, I'm going to lose you. You're going to become a martyr, again – and – and some women are strong enough to do it, to send their men off to war, to the police force, but I – I'm just not cut out for it, Tony!" And Pepper began crying out in full.

"Shhh, shhh, Pepper," Tony murmured, trying to get her to calm down as his own eyes misted over.

"And then today – you're just, just putting yourself out there, again, into danger!" Pepper continued once she could breathe again. "Except this, this danger is not your body or your life, but your heart. And I just became so frustrated – you wouldn't listen to me or my very real concerns, and I, I realized that we were broken, Tony. I, I didn't trust you not to leave me, to, to fall on that sword that would leave me heartbroken, or – I didn't even trust myself to be able to survive it! And you didn't trust me when it came to your personal life, about who you let, let into your heart – a life that I was a part of. We were supposed to be a team, but – we're not anymore. So I had to, I had to –"

"You had to leave," Tony sighed, finishing her sentence.

"Yes," Pepper replied. All was silent for a moment, and then Pepper coughed and took a breath. "So, I understand if – if you would like me to step down from my position. Being CEO was supposed to be temporary anyway –"

"Do you want to leave?" Tony asked, and then quickly clarified. "The company I mean? Because, Pepper – I'm s-sorry I made you feel that way. You're my best friend aside from Rhodey – I don't want to lose you altogether. Please – please stay."

"OK, Tony," Pepper replied after minute. "I will, then."

"And, Pep –" Tony started, and then took big breath and ploughed through. "I did try – I really did, to make this work. I do love you, I always will, just – please remember that. I tried." His voice cracked at the end of it.

"I know, Tony," Pepper said, and it seemed her tears were back. "That was what made it so difficult for me to say anything before I lost it today.  _I knew_  you were trying. It was just – I – I couldn't –"

"I know, Pep, I understand now," Tony replied.

"Tony, I – I hope my gut is wrong," Pepper said. "I hope that you and Harry get along fine and have a great relationship – I really do."

"Thanks, Pep," Tony said and looked at the time. It was past one in the morning. "I guess it's time I go to sleep. Goodbye, Pepper."

"Goodnight, Tony," Pepper replied and ended their call.

*HP*HP*HP*

An hour after having said goodbye to Pepper, Tony still lay awake. He had tossed and turned in his bed, unable to quiet his mind.

It was so unreal. Pepper was gone now. Yes, she would still be in his life, and after a few awkward months they will probably be back to their previous relationship, and she would be mother-hening him again.

Until then, Tony was going to be OK. He was not going to throw a tantrum or try and win her back. She had made her decision and – maybe it was for the best anyway. He had never been a relationship kind of guy. This would just be a little blip in his history. If he could not make it with Pepper, the personification of patience – if Pepper could not put up with him and his actions, then who would, or could? It would be fine. He was fine with being alone –

Although, now, he was not alone anymore.

It still felt like a dream – him having a child.

"JARVIS, how was Harry after he went to his bedroom?" Tony asked, finally giving in to the urge to check in on his son.

"He spent half an hour talking to his hand-mirror and is now sleeping," JARVIS replied.

Talking to his mirror? Tony wondered what that was about, but then again, he could not judge. People who build A.I. and speak with them more than human beings should not throw stones, or something like that.

After a moment, Tony threw off the covers and crept as silently as he could out of his room and in front of Harry's door. He hesitated and then pulled up all his courage to open the door.

There on the left side of the bed lay his son, looking much younger than seventeen going on eighteen. His beautiful son with raven locks and pale skin that shone in the moonlight. The boy lay on his stomach with his arms wrapped around his pillow. It made Tony imagine Harry as a toddler, cuddled with his teddy. Not for the first time today, Tony ached with regret for not having been there to raise him. But there was nothing he could do about it now. Instead, he would make the most of it now.

Tony gently took off Harry's glasses, which had gone askew on his face from the boy's snuggling into the pillow. He set them on the bedside table and pulled the covers up from the boy's waist to his shoulders.

He then left the room to go to bed himself but not without turning and looking one more time at his son. His son.

*HP*HP*HP*

Harry woke up the next morning out of sorts. In his sleep-addled state, it took him a few minutes to realize that the brightness was breaching his eyelids and not from his dream. He thought for a moment that Draco had finally gave into the threat and took away his drapes, and he took his pillow to put it over his eyes, only to realize that he was not in his bed at Grimmauld. In a flash, the teenager sat up and a moment later remembered as he took in the bright, blurry room.

He was in New York City. With his father.

Reaching around, Harry eventually found his glasses on the bedside table. With his vision now clear, he took in the view again. It was beautiful and green – but also with enough city that Harry felt comfortable.

Before his quest to destroy Voldemort, all he dreamed of was having a family in a small country house with a garden; but his trek through the Forest of Dean made him shiver with fear. It was too quiet, the fear that something was out there, searching, hunting for him. Harry was not sure that he could ever spend time in the woods without that apprehension taking hold of him again.

But this, what he had now was nice. Enough green so he did not feel he was trapped in a concrete jungle like at Grimmauld, but enough city that he could blend in with a crowd and not constantly wonder if he heard the snap of a twig or the crack of apparition in the distance. Here he could maybe, just maybe, relax and just be normal.

Well, as normal as any kid who just met his father who happens to be a billionaire and superhero.

Harry rolled out of bed, and as he put his feet on the floor, he heard a voice above him that startled him.

"Master Harry, your father is in the kitchen attempting to cook breakfast if you should want to join him," JARVIS said.

"Oh, thanks, uh, JARVIS," Harry replied, then realized the wording of the A.I.'s statement. "Wait – attempting?"

"Yes, sir," JARVIS replied. "He is cooking eggs and bacon, but has not been successful according to the smoke detectors he had me disable."

"Why is he cooking, then, if he can't cook well?" Harry asked and then felt silly for doing so. It was strange talking to the A.I. as if it was a person.

"When I reminded him I could order room service, he said that he wanted to make you feel at home and welcome by having home cooking," JARVIS replied.

"Oh," was all Harry said, before he dashed to the kitchen.

And what a sight to behold it was.

Tony Stark, the Man of Iron and engineering genius, was fighting with a pan of burning eggs. Harry could not help but laugh at it, which signaled to his father that he was no longer alone in the slightly smoky kitchen.

"Oh, good morning, Harry," Tony said and scowled, scraping the eggs from the pan into the bin and throwing the pan into the sink. "I, uh, was going to make breakfast –"

"Yeah, JARVIS told me," Harry said smiling. "I can make breakfast for us."

"No, Harry, I can't let you do that –" Tony said, but Harry just smiled and took the pan from the sink.

"Please, it's no problem at all," Harry said, as he looked around the kitchen. He saw half a container of eggs and package of raw bacon on the counter. "Do you have any olive oil?"

"I dunno," Tony answered. "JARVIS?"

"There is a bottle in the top cabinet on Master Harry's left, sir," the A.I. replied.

Harry opened the cabinet and reached on his tiptoes to grab the bottle of oil. He then set about making breakfast. Tony just stared in awe as Harry made the most beautiful and delicious smelling eggs and bacon he had ever laid eyes on. Once they sat down and Tony began to eat, he decided that they were simply divine.

"This is just – there are no words for how good these are," Tony said as he shoveled more food into his mouth.

"I'm glad you think so," Harry chuckled. Tony looked up only to realize that Harry had no eggs or bacon on his plate – just toast.

"So, why aren't you eating this?" Tony asked, gesturing to his own plate.

"Oh, my stomach can't really handle greasy things in the morning," Harry replied and took a bite out his toast.

"Why didn't you say so?" Tony replied, feeling a little guilty now. "I was trying to make you breakfast and you ended up cooking – just for me."

"It's no problem," Harry replied. "I don't mind cooking –"

"Yeah, but a kid shouldn't cook for their parent," Tony replied and stopped eating his food. He had lost his appetite.

"I haven't been a kid for a long time," Harry snapped and turned his eyes away, feeling defensive. "And you didn't mind me taking over before."

"No, but I thought you would be making something for yourself," Tony explained.

"Yeah, well, if I like to cook and you like to eat what I cook, then what's the problem?" Harry asked, an anger swelling within him. He had done something nice and now it was being shoved back into his face.

"That's not the point!" Tony exasperated and struggled to articulate what he was feeling. "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you like this. You're my child."

"But I'm not  _a child_ ," Harry stressed and then looked back into his father's eyes. He had to make it clear to the man that he would not be coddled – he would not have another Order of the Phoenix on his hands. "I'm nearly eighteen – I don't need to be babied!"

The two fell quiet for a moment, until Tony broke the silence.

"OK, I get it, you're not a kid," Tony said slowly, trying to choose his words wisely. In the one day they knew each other, Tony realized he would have to watch what he said, for fear of stepping on a verbal land mine and setting the boy off – which was a completely new concept to the man, who reveled in speaking before thinking and watching the chaos ensue. "But – you are my kid, so – you know what, how about we just forget this conversation?" Tony said, and changed the subject slightly. "How did you learn to cook? Thank you - it really is wonderful."

"Um, my aunt taught me," Harry replied stiffly and turned his head away. "And, uh, you're welcome."

"Oh," Tony replied and mentally groaned. It had not even gone noon and he screwed up the morning. First causing the boy to get defensive about breakfast and then reminding him of his dead aunt. Great. He pushed the plate away and stood up from the table. "So, what do you want to do today? I just have to sign some forms and send them to the office, but other than that I'm free."

"Don't you have work or something?" Harry asked, curious about what his father actually did day-to-day.

"Uh, well, yes, but nothing I can't put off," Tony answered.

"I don't want you to have to put your life on hold because of me," Harry responded. "If you have to work, it's fine. I'm sure I can entertain myself."

"C'mon, I'm not gonna abandon you the very first day you're with me!" Tony exclaimed and stood. "I want to get to know you better. All I know is what Balderdash told me. And it's my life, so if I decide to take off work to get to know my son, it's my choice." When Tony saw Harry was about to object, he continued. "How about I take you back to my workshop? I can work on some projects, and we can talk."

Harry nodded. That was fair.

"Great!" Tony said and stood from the table. "I'll wash up here, and we can get ready to go."

Harry went to his room and started to get ready. Harry had thought nothing of cooking for the man – he was used to it at the Dursley's and even though he had gotten out of the habit at Grimmauld with Kreacher making meals, it was not a skill he had forgotten. And unlike with the Dursley's, he actually enjoyed cooking for Tony. The man did not expect it and actually seemed in awe of his cooking. Although he would be hard pressed to admit, it actually did feel nice in hindsight to know that Tony had bristled at Harry cooking for him only. It was a clear indication of how Tony was different from his other relatives.

When discussing how to go about recreating Harry's history, there was some discussion between Balderdash and his client about what to do concerning the Dursely's. According to Balderdash, it was simple enough to change the dates of the Dursley's 'fiery fatal car accident on the M4' to correspond with their new story. The only concern would be if someone were to do a thorough enough background check that they would contact the neighbors to gain more information about it; and it was highly unlikely that anyone would go to the lengths to make transatlantic phone calls.

During the summer after the end of his sixth year, he was able to convince them to fake their deaths, move, and change their name in order to be protected from the Death Eaters. They now lived in Majorca (with Marge) as the Davies family. At first Vernon had wanted to be bribed to leave everything in England behind, not understanding the level of danger they were in; but after Remus detailed what exactly would be done to their bodies and corpses if they were to stay and Petunia's panic attack, the muggles had no issue with abandoning England for the sunny island.

Both Draco and Ron could not understand why Harry insisted the Dursley's go into hiding, with everything they had done to him – which was slightly amusing since it was one of the only things they were ever in agreement on. But, Harry just could not have more blood on his hand from those who died because of him. Even his loathsome relatives. So on they went to the Mediterranean and him into war.

Harry shook his head to stop the grim memories from descending to the forefront of his mind. It was no matter now. It was over. He needed to focus on the here and now.

And that meant finding his dragon-hide gloves.

Draco's theory was a good one, that the dragon-hide would prevent his magic and electricity from interfering. He could test it today in Tony's workshop. If he could interact with the gizmos and gadgets he eye when he was first in there, then it would make sense he could touch Tony.

He found them at the bottom of his school trunk, underneath his robes. The pair was gift from Charlie for his seventeenth birthday: black Hungarian-Horntail gloves from the shed skin of the horntail he went up against in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"You ready, Harry?" Harry heard Tony call out to him.

"Almost ready!" Harry called in reply as he put on his gloves.

It was time for an experiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Will Harry's experiment be successful? How will Tony and Harry do in the lab? Will Tony ever stop putting his foot in it? Only the next chapter will tell: Father and Son in the Workshop.
> 
> See you next time! Love, Insie.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"So what are you working on?" Harry asked, once they arrived at Tony's workshop.

He looked around and found that his first impression of the workshop was reinforced: it was completely and utterly an expensive version of Mr. Weasley's shed. In addition to the Iron Man suit and building layouts he had seen yesterday, there were tables full of bits and pieces of what Harry thought were robots.

"I have a few projects going on," Tony responded and started pointing out everything and explaining what he was doing with the hodgepodge of projects.

Watching his dad gush about his work was fun – even if most of it went over his head. After about half an hour of describing everything in the workshop, Tony finally noticed his lack of understanding.

"And all of that probably just bored you," Tony said, visibly slumping.

"No! No!" Harry reassured him quickly. "Yeah I don't understand most of what you said, but it was cool to hear you're so passionate. You're creating really cool things. I wish I could do that."

"You could – you so could," Tony said, excited again. "We can start with something simple – how about electrical? Here."

Tony picked up a piece of what looked like a gauntlet and slowly explained what each wire did, how they were connected, and what would happen should the connections change. Harry listened, fascinated, soaking up the information.

"Why don't you play with this for a moment, see what you can do with it?" Tony said, handing the gauntlet over to his son.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, taking the gauntlet with wide eyes. "You only just told me about this – what if I ruin it?"

"You probably will," Tony said with a smile. "But that's OK, because you learn by doing. There's only so much you can learn from books. Engineering is pure trial and error – all of the set-up work you do, research can all go to hell once you are there in the guts of it. I've been working on engine and machines since I was five, and you couldn't begin to count how many wires I fry even still. You usually find out something doesn't work by fire – or at least I do. And hey! You're already safer than your old man with those gloves – which are super cool by the way. Is that alligator skin?"

"Thanks – um, I'm not sure, they were a gift," Harry answered, relieved that his dad was OK with the glove wearing.

Harry then turned his attention to the gauntlet. It hadn't blown up or did anything weird just because he was holding it, which was a point in favor of the gloves. He began to fiddle around with the wires, fascinated by how if he moved them certain ways, the fingers flexed, or if he changed the wiring placement, they would have more or less power.

"This is so cool," Harry said and looked up at his dad, who was beaming.

"It sure is – and you're a natural," Tony said, and at Harry's skeptical look, he insisted. "No, really – most people wouldn't have understood my instructions, let alone been able to take what I said and apply it to something as complex to part of my Iron Man suit."

"What?" Harry yelped in surprise – putting the gauntlet down quickly. "I thought it was something older, maybe, that you were letting me play with – not part of your suit! What if you need it now, and I messed it up?"

"Well, for one thing you didn't mess it up – from what I can tell, you actually improved it," Tony countered, unconcerned. "Two, even if you had, I wouldn't have been upset. Three, most of the current suit is in pieces around here, in need of upgrades, so it would be unusable anyway. And I always have a few spare suits in case of a crisis, so we're good on that end. So, no worries, OK, bud? We're all good."

"Yeah, but still," Harry said, not at all 'good' with it. He felt very uneasy about it. "Why would you let me play around with something that important? I just don't understand."

"As I said, you learn by doing – and why start with unimportant things? Those aren't that fun," Tony replied easily but decided if he wanted to avoid another argument like this morning, he should redirect the conversation. "How about we move on to something else? We can work on this spare engine I have – I can show you the ins and outs of it, so you'll know what I'm taking about when I talk cars – which I do a lot, cause cars are cool – and hey, we can move on later to working on actual cars! But for now, we can work on this one. It's an old thing. I found it when I was moving workshops. I sometimes just play with it when I'm stuck on other projects. It's nothing important, promise, cross my heart." And he actually crossed his heart, making Harry feel better and smile.

"OK," Harry said, agreeing now that he was sure the engine wasn't something every special. His dad was a mystery to him – why he would let Harry play with part of his Iron Man suit, he'll never know. The man seemed to have a lot of faith that Harry wouldn't wreck it, because Harry didn't quite believe Tony when he said that he wouldn't have been upset if the teenager had messed up. Maybe Tony didn't think he wouldn't be, but Harry knew better. Tony would see the screw-up and the destroyed item and would become angry and take it out on Harry.

Best to make sure he dealt with only scraps to avoid that episode.

It was really quite fun, learning all these new skills and working with his hands. It reminded Harry of gardening – using his hands to skillfully create new life, albeit now with lifeless machines. And that he was learning from his father, something he always dreamed about – it was amazing. Once there was lull in conversation – or rather when Tony stopped rambling – Harry decided to ask what he was wondering about.

"You said you've been doing this since you were five," Harry said and then asked, "So, did you do this with your dad, too?"

Tony froze for a moment. He should have realized that Harry would ask about Howard, but with the whirlwind of the past day – he didn't really think about that. Well, Tony wouldn't lie.

"Uh, yeah, I did," Tony answered, continuing to fiddle with the engine. "It was the only time we actually spent together – or rather the only time he would spend time with me. So I learned everything I could to try and impress him."

"Did you?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. He had a bad feeling about the answer, given the sadness coming from his dad. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have asked."

"No," Tony replied eventually and sighed. He turned both his attention from the engine and his body so he was facing Harry. "I don't want you to feel like you can't ask me questions. My dad – Howard – He was a great industrialist and engineer. He helped create Captain America and worked on the Manhattan Project. After the war, he and Stark Industries helped build the American military industrial complex to what it is today. He was a very important man to America – and the world, really. Those kinds of men don't usually make great fathers.

"He was always too busy for family. I think the only reason he got married and had me was because he was getting older and he wanted to continue his legacy. Howard was older when I was born – much older than the other parents of kids my age. He was either working or drinking, or sometimes both. Never were times to disrupt him, because he had a temper. I grew to hate him, and although I slightly understand why he was the way he was now that I'm older – I don't think I'll ever forgive him for not being there when it mattered.

"And, now that I have you – I am even more angry with him," Tony continued and made sure to catch Harry's eyes. "I never wanted children, because I was afraid I would turn out like him. But now that I know you exist – I don't think I could ever have done what he did. I regret so much, not being there – and if I could turn back time I would – but we're here together now, so I'll be grateful for that at least." Tony pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, which Harry accepted. "I love you kid, and I want you to know that. My old man – he never said it, and I never knew how he felt. I don't want you to feel that way, to wonder where you stand. So I'm going to say it a lot, so much so you may get sick of it. But I need to tell you that I care for you and I love you – you're my blood, you're my son. I can't think of anything that could stop that feeling now that it's been released."

Harry was silent, tears welling up in his eyes. How long had he longed to hear those words? No one had ever said that to him – not even Sirius, although he knew his godfather cared for him. It was just too much.

"And you don't have to say anything back," Tony continued after a moment. "I just want you to know where I stand."

Tony honestly wasn't expecting anything either. God knows he wouldn't have known what to do with those words when he was Harry's age. But, it felt so nice to be able to express them now, especially with his child.

Harry nodded, still unable to say anything. They sat there like for a time until the teenager's stomach growled. Harry blushed, but Tony just laughed and gave his shoulders a squeeze before releasing him and standing.

"How about we go get lunch?" Tony asked, smiling at his son. "I know this little Italian place – it's a little hole in the wall, but it's the best damn pasta outside of Naples. I know the owners, and they're good about letting me in the back and giving me a private booth, so we'll have our privacy. And I can tell you about your grandmother, Maria. She's the most beautiful Italian woman I've ever seen and was an amazing cook – even though we had a chef, she would still insist on making homemade pastas..."

Tony continued to chatter on as they left the workshop, Harry smiling as he listened to his dad's stories about his grandmother. The morning had turned out well, despite the hiccups here and there. After learning more about his father's childhood, he understood the man better and why he was so enthusiastic about having a relationship with him. A part of him believed Tony when he said that there was nothing that would turn him away from Harry, and a voice that sounded an awful lot like Draco whispered that he should reveal his magic and that he would be accepted. But Harry had burned before for far less. No, it was best to wait and follow through with his plan and wait to reveal.

Plus, he was starving and didn't want to ruin lunch with all the shit from his magical life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Yes, I know it's been forever. But with uni and writer's block, I've been unable to write a word. I'm so glad so many of you love this universe – and your love has motivated me to start writing more on this fic. But, don't expect regular updates. My series "Supernatural Husbands" is what has my writing muse at the moment – check it out, if interested – but I won't ever abandon this fic, or any other. I just ask for patience and hope you continue your interest. Love, Insie


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back. From outerspace.
> 
> No, but seriously, this fic, which started it all, is so darn difficult to write because I'm a perfectionist with my first born. I've been working on this chapter literally for a year and finally just said heck with it and clicked publish. I hope to have quicker updates than a year and a half for the next chapter. Thank you to all who have patiently waited for an update.
> 
> Also, just to state again - I NEVER ABANDON MY FICS. I may take hella long to update, but as long as there is a breath in my body, I will finish the suckers at some point.
> 
> Love you all, Insie

The next few weeks went by quickly. Harry and Tony continued to get to know one another, both enjoying each other's company. They kept mostly to the penthouse and the workshop but also took some fieldtrips around NYC, all in disguise.

Harry had the most fun in his life during those expeditions. They put on wigs and all manner of dress in their disguises, and Tony had him cracking up, acting out their parts with style and flair. They took a boat to Ellis Island and climbed up into the Statue of Liberty, travelled to the top of the Empire State Building, enjoyed to a Yankees Game in the nosebleed seats with only minor grumbling from Tony ("When we're public, I'll get seats right behind homeplate"), and took a boat out into the harbor.

More than anything, the best part of those adventures for Harry was the feeling of his dad's hand on his shoulder and the proudness in the man's voice when he asked for tickets, "One for me, and one for my son."

Son. He was someone's son. How wonderful was that?

*HP*HP*HP*

At home, Harry got to know Bruce more. Whereas Tony was high energy at all times, Bruce was more mild-mannered and calm. They were yin to each other's yang, and Harry enjoyed listening to their conversations, although most of it went over Harry's head. Bruce was quick to notice.

"What subjects did you take at your school?" Bruce asked, after another scientific conversation where Harry was left confused.

"My focus was in dance," Harry replied, averting his gaze from the older man and looking down at the motor he was working on. More and more, Bruce reminded Harry of Remus. Gentle yet sharp in his thinking. He caught on more than he let and didn't let you know it until you were caught up in your own web. Harry made sure he was careful.

"You did other subjects, though?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that British schools specialize to three or four."

"Well, most do," Harry replied. "But mine – since it's an arts school – we focus on one area and are tutored in the basics of the others. The goal is to get into the art and drama uni's or the industry."

"How did you get into that school?" Bruce asked, eyes still keen.

"Well, I did pretty poorly in the other subjects, but excelled in phys. ed. when we did dancing, etc." Harry replied, remembering the history he and Balderdash had come up with. "So, the teacher nominated me to audition for the arts schools, and I was accepted to a boarding school in Scotland."

"Was that difficult, leaving your family for boarding school?" Bruce asked, calm as ever.

"No," Harry replied immediately, then realized that answer was wrong when it came to normal people. People who didn't live with the Dursley family. He quickly tried to explain. "I mean, of course I missed them, but I was happy to be going to a special school."

"Of course," Bruce repeated, his eyes flashing. Harry had the awful feeling that the man was going to call him out on the lie, but then the man changed the subject. "Have you danced since you came here, then?"

"Uh, no not really," Harry answered, and before he could say more, he was interrupted.

"Shit!" Tony cursed, and Harry looked up quickly at his father to see him looking at Harry with a pained expression. "I should have thought of that!"

"What -?" Harry started asking, confused at what his father was going on about.

"You don't have a place to dance here!" Tony exclaimed, starting to look frazzled. "Or in the new tower! I didn't include a studio! Once you told me your interests, I should have started amending the designs – instead I'm making you working on what interests me –"

"But I like doing this!" Harry countered, wanting to calm the man down. "You're not making me do anything! Really – it's fine. I enjoy spending time with you and Bruce and working on these things."

"But –" Tony started, only to have Bruce hush him.

"Harry, why don't you go out and call Happy to come pick us up?" Bruce asked. "It's time we should go back to the apartment for dinner. We'll meet you downstairs in just a minute."

Harry wasn't stupid. He knew he was being dismissed so the 'adults' could talk.

"But –" Harry started, only for Bruce to also hush him.

"Please, Harry, it'll only be a moment," Bruce said, with a calm tone of finality, eyes flashing. It was strange. The man didn't scare Harry or make him feel threatened, but at the same time, Harry felt obliged to follow his instruction. He still felt a swirl of rebellion in his chest, but he took a breath and nodded, leaving the workshop and his father and Bruce behind.

*HP*HP*HP*

"Why did you cut me off?" Tony asked once Harry left the room. "Why did you send Harry away? I was only saying –"

"Tony, what were your thoughts when Harry said he hasn't danced while he's been here?" Bruce asked, calm as ever when interrupting his friend.

Tony looked at Bruce as if he was stupid.

"Exactly what I said," Tony said slowly, not understanding why Bruce was suddenly dense. "I should have thought about that. I knew Harry danced before he came here, but all I've done with him is push him into  _what I wanted_. I just can't believe I've become my – nevermind."

"No, finish your thought, Tony," Bruce encouraged, setting a hand on Tony's arm. "Became your father?"

"I thought you weren't that kind of doctor," Tony snapped, pulling his arm away.

"Tony, be honest with me," Bruce asked, his voice as kind as ever.

"Yeah, so what?" Tony replied, turning away and staring at the motor his son had been working on. For knowing nothing about anything mechanical before moving here, Harry was a natural with the machines, even though he insisted on wearing those gloves all the time. It always made Tony's chest puff with pride – until realizing he had pushed it on his son made it pop and deflate.

"The reason I stopped you, was because I thought you were about to fall into your anxious-depressive spiral, Tone," Bruce said gently, and Tony turned his head sharply back to face Bruce, his breath caught in his throat. "Was I wrong?"

"... No," Tony whispered, looking away. How could Bruce know – when even he didn't realize that was about to start?

"It's OK, Tony, I understand, but," and at this, Bruce moved until he was facing Tony and held onto his shoulders, "we need to talk about Harry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Tony will learn of magic. EVENTUALLY! It's not what Bruce plans to talk about. Just to make clear.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Merry Christmas/Festive Season!
> 
> Love, Insie


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